The Miracle
by Kuna Yashmaa
Summary: This is an old Wraith–related story. I’m just resubmitting it.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes:** I am grateful to CeeKay Sheppard for editing this story.

* * *

Chapter I

'Not all of _us_ are smart. Some are not even clever.'

"May I come in? Please? I am small and not scary." The voice was definitely female, and it sounded sad and weary.

"There is no address on the other side," Dr. McKay noted flatly. "I don't know, how it is possible, but…"

The surface of the Gate rippled, and a woman stepped through. The one-sided Stargate wormhole stayed open.

She was wearing gray cargo-pants, a gray long-sleeved top, and a pair of wide bracelets made of dull gray metal. Her straight hair, matted and overgrown beyond any recognizable haircut, had perhaps been brown once, but was now sun-bleached to the shade of dirty straw. Her face would have been tan, but her skin had a sickly grayish cast.

Sheppard thought she looked like a half-starved and very unhappy mouse.

Without paying any attention to the people, she looked up and said, "You are _beautiful_." She walked a couple of steps, not taking her gaze from the Wraith dart hovering in midair above the Stargate, then spread her arms and made a small rocking motion – to the left, to the right. "Hello, there!"

And Rodney could swear that the transport, which had been completely immobile for more than half a year, responded, swaying from side to side in a silent greeting.

-o0o-

"I am so sorry for this intrusion." The woman was looking from one host to another with a little smile on her sunken face.

"Do you have a name?" asked Major Sheppard.

The woman blinked.

"What should we call you?" John repeated in very patient voice.

"Well, I suppose." The woman frowned and shifted her shoulder, "you can call me Mouse – I hear you are thinking it."

"Sorry."

"Oh, I don't mind. Mice are cute." Mouse gave Sheppard her little smile.

"Do you need… help?" asked the major, and added, "Maybe you need a doctor? You don't look so… You look tired."

"I am. I mean tired. It's not contagious. I don't need a doctor. I need… I came to help." She looked from one face to another again. "Do you have all personnel accounted for?"

-o0o-

"That's what I am saying." Mouse looked utterly upset. "I heard it. I still hear it, but the walls here… they seem to disperse everything. I cannot tell where it's coming from. When we were far, I could pinpoint the direction easier."

"We believe you," said Dr. Weir tolerantly. "We are just trying to understand what it is you hear. How far you were, when you heard it?"

"Far. I don't know how to explain." Tears were evident in Mouse's voice. "Chris! How far were we?"

The Stargate surface sighed.  
"Now you are here," said a calm man's voice, and a bright hologram appeared in the middle of the gate room – the City of Atlantis floating in the vast dark ocean. "When you got sick, we were here."

The hologram changed – Atlantis swiftly shrank into an invisible dot on the planet surface, then the solar system diminished into nothing, then the entire galaxy became a red dot surrounded by other dots and dust clouds, and moved into the far corner of the hall. The space ship appeared in the middle of the room instead – a long needle of frozen mercury.

"Then I jumped," continued the voice, and the red dot of the Pegasus galaxy leaped to the other corner of the hall. "You still didn't know where it is coming from. Then I jumped again." The red dot disappeared, covered by dust clouds. "You got better. So we figured out the direction. Then I jumped again." The red dot become a pink spot the size of an apple, then a melon, and then it exploded into myriads of solar systems. "Here you started to throw up."

"I don't think anyone here needs _such_ details," Mouse stated irritably.

"I am just trying to be precise." The man's voice took on a clearly sarcastic tone. "It was too crowded, so I couldn't jump anymore. Damn suns really slow you down, don't they? You kept throwing up, and I was moving like a snail, until I saw all this… holes. Place looks like a termite pile, honest! So I dug a hole of my own. Boom, and you were there!"

"It was… very far away," noted Dr. Weir. "Even if you are telepathic, how can you hear from such distance?"

"I am _not_! And I usually can't. But it was… it _is_ so… desperate. And sad. And so _clear_ – free of fear, free of anger. No hope. So _final_…" Mouse's voice trailed away. Then she looked at Sheppard. "It as if you were responsible for this place, for this people. Then you went away, no one knew where. Then you were in the… cave, and the ceiling crumbled down… and you are trapped. In the small cavern. You can't see or hear anything, you can't get out, and no one knows you there. You are not scared, oh no, but… You are so _hungry_. And you are thinking about your City – who will protect it?"

Sheppard looked at Mouse for a long while, then turned to face Dr. Weir. "Trapped. No way out. Hungry. I think I know what it is."

-o0o-

Mouse's lips were trembling like those of a hurt baby about to cry. "I don't believe you," she said. "You look so _normal_. You wouldn't do _that_ to a living being on purpose. It is… somebody just stuck in the elevator!"

"For a couple of weeks? Without food?" Major Sheppard raised his eyebrows. "Who would survive that? And we don't have any people missing."

"I will not believe you until I see it for myself," Mouse stated. "Will you let me see that creature?"

Sheppard shrugged. "Don't see why not."

"Chris, it's cold in here. Give me my sandals," she asked, looking at the Gate. Only then did everybody see that she was barefoot, warming one foot on top of another.

The Gate gave an annoyed sigh. A beach sandal flew through it, and landed in the middle of the gate ramp, by some miracle not hitting any of the people.

"Careful, you…" Mouse winced.

Nothing else happened.

"The second one!"

"I don't see it," Chris responded sarcastically.

"It's somewhere there. It couldn't fall _out_!"

"_I don't see it_."

"You are a cosmically-sized _ass_," muttered the woman, then picked up the lonely sandal. "Let's go."

-o0o-

Half way down the penitentiary corridor, Mouse lost orientation and walked head first into the wall. Sheppard automatically reached out to steady her, but stopped, considering the look on woman's face. She carefully slid along the wall out of his reach.

"I'm just trying to help," the man noted with a 'do you _really_ think you are attractive?' expression.

"If you are the cause of how I am feeling now. Keep away from me." Mouse shook her sandal at the silent major, then looked down the corridor and gave a humorless chuckle. "It is _never_ a moron in the elevator, is it?"

-o0o-

"SHUT UP!"

The sandal flew through the cage bars like a missile. The creature in the cage could be proud of its reaction speed – it awoke and jumped from the crouching position, easily avoiding contact with the piece of flying footwear. But apparently it forgot about the size of the cage – it slammed into the force field and landed on the floor with an angry cry. Then it leaped to its feet and turned to face the humans.

"Do you understand, young man, what a _nuisance_ you are?" Mouse was shouting. "And how such a _small_ creature can generate such a _racket_?" Her eyes swept the surroundings in the search of another object to throw.

Sheppard involuntarily stepped back.

"Aha!" Mouse took off one of her bracelets. The major couldn't understand how – the thing looked as solid as a manacle cuff. But somehow it was already in the woman's hand, she weighed it with satisfied 'it will do' expression, and threw it at the prisoner. The creature growled and caught the bracelet without any difficulty.

Mouse sighed, then moved her head, as if listening for something, or checking if the headache was truly gone. Finally, she smiled at the prisoner. "Thank you."

The creature didn't respond. It looked at the piece of metal in its hand, then back at the woman.

"It's a _bracelet_," said Mouse reassuringly. "Put it on."

"Why should I do _that_?" the voice of the prisoner sounded like a file dragging across rusty metal.

It all happened so fast, Sheppard couldn't believe that he managed to pull his handgun out of the holster. The Major felt as if he was caught in some mechanism. He was prone on the floor, one of Mouse's hands at the back of his neck locking his head, another jamming his right hand, with the gun still in it, pointing it at the prisoner's face. The woman wasn't even heavy, just enormously, unbelievably strong.

"Tell your boys to stand down. I will not harm you."

The remains of the major's pride made him jerk, and the next moment, the grip on his neck tightened so much that he almost heard his vertebrae cracking.

"Enough," he said in strangled whisper. "Stand down, guys."

Mouse turned her head to see the prisoner.

"Put it on," she stated, "_because I want you to_."

The creature looked at the bracelet, then back at the gun in the woman's hand.

"Put it on. You cannot _afford_ to be shot."

The prisoner growled, baring his pointed teeth, and brought the bracelet close to his wrist, apparently unsure how to put it on. And the substance, which looked like a gray metal, suddenly melted, and moved of its own accord, forming a solid cuff around the creature's wrist. The prisoner tried to claw it off, and stopped, understanding the hopelessness of that idea. He looked at the woman with an expression of grim mistrust.

Sheppard tried, but couldn't do anything to stop what happened next – Mouse pulled the trigger, sending a couple of bullets right into the prisoner's face. Nothing happened; all the bullets seem to evaporate without causing any harm. Then Mouse released the major, walked away and set down, her back against the wall. The creature in the cage looked at her with visible disapprobation.

"Come on," said the woman waving her hand. "You didn't feel a thing."

Silence.

"I didn't know if it would work for you. I _had to_ check!"

Silence.

"Oh, next time I'll shoot you in the _ass_, when you are not wearing _any protection_!"

-o0o-

"Now tell your boys to fetch some food for him." Mouse was standing by the wall, hugging herself from the cold.

"You can fetch it yourself," Sheppard noted sarcastically. "I mean, you can feed _yourself_ to him. That'd be cool."

Woman raised her sun-bleached eyebrows.

"It's a _Wraith_. The only item on his menu is the human life-force," the major explained. "Didn't you know?"

"Didn't you? I mean when you caught him – how did you plan to feed him?" The sheer sincerity in the woman's voice was unnerving. "Or did you just lock him up, without bench to sit on, without wall he can lean on, without any hope?"

"He is a murderer."

"And what does it make _you_, I wonder? The _f-word_ comes in mind. He doesn't have a choice, but you do…" the woman waved her hand, apparently loosing any interest in the future development of the subject, and turned to the prisoner. "Is it true? Or can you eat something else?"

The Wraith didn't respond. He shifted uneasily, looked aside and back to the woman.

"Oh, crap," and Mouse lowered her head, staring at her feet, one warming on top of the other.

-o0o-

"But this is bull," she announced eventually in clear and confident voice.

Sheppard and the Wraith exchanged glances.

"I mean, really. The other day, Chris caught a creature just like you. I think." Mouse looked at the prisoner. "I didn't get a clear look, I wasn't felling well. That thing lost its transport in a crash and was stuck on an empty planet for God knows how long. Chris fancied the idea that the creature made me sick. So he caught it and fed it until it couldn't eat anymore."

An expression of total disbelief settled on the Wraith's face.

"I was the only human aboard," Mouse continued, "and since I am still alive, Chris fed the thing with _something else_. Basically, stuff that you call the life-force is just a form of energy. It should be… some feeding machine or something." The woman looked at Sheppard and shrugged. "I can try to build one."

"May be you better ask… your friend… Chris?"

"I am not talking to that _ass_."

-o0o-

"Say it." Mouse, hands in her pockets, was standing right next to the cage bars.

"I give you my word," rasped the Wraith.

"Yes."

"Not to harm anyone in this place."

"Carry on."

"Not to scratch anyone, not to make scary noises, not to give anyone nasty looks."

"Please continue."

Silence.

"_Say_ it."

The Wraith snorted and looked aside.

"Or the deal is off," Mouse's voice was made of iron.

"I _cannot_ spit."

The woman kept staring at him.

The Wraith rolled his eyes: "I swear to not _spit_ at anyone here."

"Good." Mouse gave him a broad smile. "Boys, open the damned cage."

-o0o-

"You are _insane_!" Sheppard cried, looking at the grinning woman. "It's a starved Wraith! He'll kill everyone in the City!"

"And there's _absolutely nothing_ you can do about it," said Mouse in a rather vindictive tone.

"Why would you not tell them the truth?" The Wraith's voice was very calm.

"Because I like teasing them."

"Why?" The Wraith cocked his head to one side.

"Because. I am tired. I haven't had a decent night's sleep for _weeks_. I am dehydrated, for crying out loud! And did one of these f-words offer me a glass of water? One can spare a _glass of water_ to the worst enemy – which I am _not_. Not _yet_." Mouse looked aside. "Oh, well. He _can't_ kill anyone while he is wearing the bracelet. And no one but Chris can take it off him. Happy? So open the damned cage, before I take it apart!"

-o0o-

"You are not touching that machine!" cried Rodney anxiously, keeping a relatively safe position behind the military team.

Mouse produced a small screwdriver from her pocket and gave the scientist the broadest of smiles.

"_Watch_ me!" she said, and dived under the console of the Ancient device.

There was a scraping noise, than a loud thud, then more scraping.

"Should I help?" The Wraith was standing right next to the machine.

"Look at your index finger," the woman muttered from under the console.

The Wraith obediently examined his talon.

"Oh…" Mouse crawled out, took the Wraith's claw and turned it around, bringing it close to his face. "See?" she pointed at the perforated surface of his fingertip. "This is a feeding device, not the something you can handle tools with."

Mouse crawled back. The metal-ripping noises continued, making Dr. McKay grimace in anguish.

"Shit!" the woman's hand appeared from under the console and beckoned at the silent Wraith. "You, come. I need some sort of connection here," she said quietly looking right in the eyes of the crouching creature. "So, I am taking my bracelet off. Cover me."

"How?"

"_Gently_."

-o0o-

"What do you think you're doing?" Sheppard stepped closer to the Ancient device.

"Taking away your excuse not to feed the prisoners of war," Mouse responded from under the console.

The man snorted. "Next thing you know, you'll ask us to apply the terms of the Geneva Convention to the _Wraith_."

"Why not? Those terms don't specify what the prisoners should _look like_ to qualify."

"Oh, what do _you_ know about the Geneva Convention?"

The scraping stopped. Mouse and the Wraith got out, screwdriver in her hand, the Wraith's hand around her waistline. There was very long silence, the woman watching the major with an unreadable expression on her face.

"My people lost over twenty million lives that f-words would be no more," she said eventually in a very level voice. The Wraith gave her an unnerved glance and tried to do two things at once – to move away and to keep hold of her. As a result, he jerked the woman and pulled her a couple of feet away from the machine. "Be still!" Mouse ordered, and elbowed him in the ribs. "There is no family in my land who was untouched by that war. My ancestors fought like beasts for the every scrap of our land, while _your_ ancestors were observing the event with considerable interest." Mouse looked down, then up at Sheppard again. "The decisions of the Geneva Convention are not written for the sake of the prisoners, but for the sake of those who apply them. That's why they are not written by f-words, but by _humans_. And anyone who defines himself as a _human_ should follow those rules. But apparently being an f-w… _fascist_ is some special quality of the soul." She sighed and crawled back under the device, pulling the Wraith after her.

-o0o-

"What is she doing?" The voice coming from beyond the Gate surface was as quiet as the sigh of a distant hurricane.

"Destroying the Ancient machine!" cried Rodney.

"Don't let her _energize_ anything. She is a technological imbecile."

"How am I going to stop her? I can't shoot her, and she is stronger then me."

"Enough of this. I am coming in."

"You will not _fit_," Mouse noted from underneath the console.

"I'll do my _best_." The man's voice was full of poison.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II

'They are capable of strange things.'

The Gate surface rippled and a man stepped through. The onlookers gasped in astonishment.

"General O'Neill?" Major Sheppard managed to say, his jaw dropping.

The man on the ramp made an annoyed grimace and… rippled, like the Gate surface a moment before. The new guy was as tall as the general, but looked much more massive. He was wearing an old sand-colored uniform of an unknown army and heavy boots. His skin was tanned to a dark copper shade. His head was clean-shaven, but his face was not, covered with ten days' worth of sun-bleached stubble.

"Name's Chris," he noted grimly, and added, "Sorry about that – metamorph had reacted on your collective expectations." Seeing the blank faces of his hosts, he explained, "You heard me talking. So your brains automatically chose the way I was supposed to look. Apparently, all of you know someone who sounds similar to me."

The one who named himself Chris was silent for a moment, as if unsure what to do next, then looked up. He shook his head in amusement and suppressed a smile. Then he put his hands in his pockets and walked down the ramp and up the stairs.

-o0o-

The Wraith, whose hand was still wrapped around the woman's torso, gave the man a terrified look and tried to pull away without letting her go.

"Be still!" Mouse ordered again, without looking around.

"Stop _hugging her_." Chris was staring at the creature as if it was a dead insect.

The Wraith looked aside but didn't move.

"He is protecting me," said the woman from underneath the machine.

"From what?"

"They would shoot me."

"Where are the bracelets I gave you?"

"One I gave to him, or they would shoot him too."

"And the other one?"

"Here. I needed something to connect these bits."

"Oh, well. No one is shooting anyone. _And stop hugging her_!"

The Wraith let go and moved behind the machine with considerable haste, which showed that it was not his dignity he was concerned about at the moment.

-o0o-

Without taking his hands out of his pockets the man crouched in front of the Ancient device, looking underneath the console.

"What are you trying to do? Blow the place to smithereens?"

"Why? The connection is perfect!"

"Because you are an _idiot_, that's why. The connection is good here, but what about there?" He pointed with his chin. Bits of wire were sticking out of the half-opened block like the feelers of hiding roaches. "The energy has nowhere to go."

"It wouldn't blow up the _entire_ place," Mouse stated in a quiet but very stubborn voice.

"Yes, but what it would do to the poor starving boy?"

Mouse made a guilty grimace. "Sorry."

"If you can't put together the screw and screw-nut – then why bother?"

"I can!"

"Yah. There was no single device you touched that didn't blow up."

"What about the coffee-maker?"

"Well, I liked the little thing," Chris grinned, "_while it lasted_. And when it _did_ blow up, the blast radius was relatively small, too."

The man took a miniscule screwdriver out of his chest pocket, disconnected the bracelet, and threw it back to Mouse. "And don't take it off anymore!"

-o0o-

"Come to papa." Chris beckoned the Wraith with his hand. "Papa's going to _feed_ ya."

The Wraith didn't move, keeping the machine between him and the man.

"You are not _real_," he stated carefully.

"Try to hug her again, and you'll find out how _real_ I am." The man moved around the Ancient Device towards the creature.

The Wraith mirrored his move, eyeing the man warily, when he realized that Mouse was blocking his way.

"You know, Chris, my people worked out quite a few ways to feed the prisoners against their will," she said, looking at the Wraith intently. "And _all_ of those ways are painful and rather humiliating. Do you know any way to feed _this_ guy?"

The creature hissed and stepped back from her.

"I'll figure something out," Chris noted grimly.

The man and the woman slowly advanced from both sides of the Ancient device. The Wraith looked around frantically and Sheppard got the clear impression that the creature was about to run and hide behind his back.

"Oh, we should stop it," said Mouse, suppressing the smile. "Before we scare all the… whatever you can scare out of those guys… out of him. Do they even _have_ something to scare out?" she added thoughtfully.

"We were about to find out," Chris made a face. "Coward. You rescued a _coward_."

"Who knew?" The woman shrugged indifferently.

The Wraith growled and moved – in a moment he was standing in front of the man, his pointed teeth bared, his yellow eyes glowing.

The creature raised his cuffed claw and rasped: "I cannot feed."

"Not a problem." Chris shrugged, and grabbed the bracelet.

"Wait!" Mouse cried. "Please, wait!"

She wasn't grinning anymore. "I will not be able to hear him. Wait… How should I call you?" She looked the Wraith right in the eyes. Then the anguish on her face was replaced with amusement. "Now, that's cute. That's _very_ cute."

-o0o-

Chris snorted and took away the bracelet, ripping the image from Mouse's vision. She winced. The bracelet seemed to melt in the man's hand. Then Chris unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his chest – broad, copper-tanned and covered with curly blond hair.

"Feed while papa is in a good mood." He grinned at the Wraith.

The creature inhaled, narrowed its eyes and stabbed its claw into the man's chest. Chris put his hands in his pockets, looking at the Wraith with a mocking smile. The Wraith looked aside.

"That's enough for now," Chris stated after a minute, and the Wraith took his claw away hastily, as if pretending that he hadn't just fed on the man.

-o0o-

"Here is your feeding machine. You saw, it works." Chris was standing over something that looked like small metal box. He wiped the device clean from the Wraith's slime, gave the paper towel in his hand a disgusted look, and deposited it into the garbage can.

"What repulsive creatures," he noted, looking at the Wraith, who didn't look back, apparently preoccupied with the complicated internal processes.

"Go back to the Gate room," Chris continued. "I need to talk to these people. And if I do not find you in the Gate room when I get there, I will be very _disappointed_."

-o0o-

"The thing has pretty keen ears, so I shielded this room," said Chris when the Wraith left. "The doctor and the scientist are all we need." He gave Beckett and McKay a wry smile. "So, boys, the best piece of advice I can give you – don't do it again."

"Don't do _what_ again?" asked Dr. McKay irritably.

"Don't keep those creatures as pets – they bring _bad luck_."

"He is not a _pet_, he is our prisoner. We are at war, he might give us…"

"He will give you _nothing_, but trouble. For how long did you torture him? Did he give you _anything_?"

"We did not-"

"Letting somebody starve to death perfectly qualifies as torture. But I am not talking _morals_. The creatures you call the Wraith are way more _complicated_, than you believe. When cornered, they are capable of _strange_ things."

"What things?" Beckett asked quietly.

Chris looked down, contemplating the answer. Then he gave a huge sigh. "I _should not_ be here. But I am. Here. Doesn't it scare you?"

"No. Why?" Rodney responded with a shrug.

"Just think about it – out of all the places in the Universe, what are the chances that I would be _here_? None. I should admit - it scares the living hell out of _me_. Oh, well. You are not about to listen, anyway."

"We are listening." Carson was looking at the guest with his calm and sad eyes.

"Yes, but you are _unable_ to hear." Chris waved his hand dismissively. "At least, try to keep your _prisoners_ from a total despair – that makes them especially _unpleasant_. And remember – when the Wraith feeds from a living human, he takes not only the life-force. Basically, he takes _everything_ that is easier to fetch than to synthesize de novo. The machine, on the other hand, is _only_ good for providing the energy. These creatures are pretty self-sufficient, but you will need to give the prisoner some water. Not much – a small glass once a week would do. Or keep the cell air humid – they can retrieve the water from the air.

"One more thing. _Never_ let the Wraith _touch_ the feeding machine while it is plugged in. Charge it, unplug it, feed the prisoner. Remember, that if properly connected, such creature is perfectly capable of depriving this place of _all_ its energy _in a matter of seconds_."

-o0o-

The Wraith didn't look at the people blocking his path. He just stood in the middle of the corridor, observing the floor at his feet.

"I received a direct order to proceed to the Gate room," he explained calmly, realizing that the military team was not going to let him pass. "The one whom you call Chris made it clear, that he will be quite _displeased_ if he does not find me there. Fortunately, he did not specify _with whom_ he is going to be displeased."

"You are so afraid of him that you take _direct orders_ from him?" Sheppard chuckled, looking at the creature in front of him with contempt.  
The Wraith raised his eyes and gave the major a very long stare. Then he lowered his head again and said, "You are _so lucky_ that you cannot _see_."

-o0o-

"Chris, it's a _nightmare_." Mouse was standing in the middle of the console deck in perfect solitude, except for the silent Wraith. "So many people get killed, but they are still starving." She pointed at the Wraith with her chin. "There are children on _both_ sides – hungry or killed."

"Have you been talking to the locals?" The man grimaced.

"No, I have been _listening._ Can you do something about it?"

"What?"

"I don't know. Something so that no one would have to die."

"You and your kitchen philosophy," Chris noted sarcastically.

"What's wrong with my philosophy?"

"Nothing. But the _kitchen_ is the only place it is good for. When you are trying to blow it up to cosmic size, it loses its charm. Do you realize that this Galaxy is in _perfect_ balance? If I believed in God, I would say that this place is an example of _intelligent design_. The only thing that is out of balance here is this _pimple_ in the middle of the ocean we are standing upon. The best thing we can do for this place is to burn this City down and scatter the ashes. Do you want me to do that?"

"No."

"Than let's leave – it's the second-best option."

"We can't! Do you know what these guys are preparing to do? They are working on a drug which would change them," she pointed at the Wraith again, "into _humans_!"

The Wraith gave the woman a very strange glance – shocked disbelief well balanced with curiosity.

"They are _immortal_ beings," Mouse continued. "It's the same as if somebody would take an _elf_, and change _it_ into a human!"

"_Ears_."

"Ears what?"

"Your book says 'pointed _ears_' not _teeth_."

"First of all, I _wish_ that it was my book. Second, that book doesn't mention every little detail. For instance, it never mentions that Aragorn wore _pants_. Not one single time! But it doesn't mean that he roamed around with a naked ass!"

Chris rolled his eyes with a 'have it your own way' expression. Then he looked back at her and said: "If you are attracted to this guy - just say so. But _please_ don't give me the _elf_ and _children_ crap. We both know that you don't give a mouse dropping for anyone and anything besides yourself and your fantasies."

"I am? Attracted? To him?" The first question sounded as if Mouse was about to yell at her friend, but the last one was almost meditative.

The Wraith gave her another strange look – curious and frightened at the same time.

She backed off, searching with her hand for something to sit on, found that something and sat on it, not taking her eyes from the silent Wraith. 'It' happened to be the Ancient device. Rodney, who was standing at the corridor entrance, winced but said nothing. The woman pulled her legs up and sat crouching, holding her ankles, her chin resting upon her raised knees. She looked surprisingly like a gargoyle made out of dull gray stone.

"Perhaps I am," she said eventually. "But could you _please_ feed the rest of them anyway?"

-o0o-

"It depends on how many 'the rest' is. The creature I caught the other day consumed exactly two million, six hundred fifty three thousand, four hundred seventy two… and a half of the average human life-force equivalents, before it expressed a desire to sleep."

"You can spare _that_ much?" The Wraith's voice was a shocked whisper.

"Not now." Chris shrugged. "That amount of energy would take me through the best part of a year. But I hung under the sun with my butt up, and pumped into the creature all the force I could catch. I thought it would pop, honest! So, how many of you suckers are hanging around?" Chris looked at the Wraith inquisitively.

The Wraith lowered its gaze, but didn't say a word.

"I _could_ probably pull it out of him," said the man thoughtfully, "but what the hell. All right, I'll give it a shot. But I have to _come in_. And before I will start, I shall unload all the _garbage_."

-o0o-

Chris went beyond the Gate surface and unloaded several items. The first was an army backpack, half empty. Two plastic containers, closed tightly, came next. Then came a dozen large cardboard boxes, filled to the brim with books, followed by the sleepy Wraith. Judging by the way the creature moved through the Gate, it was dislocated from its previous position against its will and with the application of considerable force. Last came a single beach sandal. It flew through the gate and landed in the middle of the ramp.

Mouse gave a little delighted cry. "I knew it didn't fell _out_!" and rushed down the stairs towards it. She happily put it on and looked at her other foot.

"Oh, shit," she said. "I forgot the first one downstairs."

The new Wraith looked at everybody with mild contempt, then lay on the floor, put his claws on his stomach, and closed his eyes.

-o0o-

"That looks exactly like a _very large_…" Dr. Zelenka was observing the temporary Stargate, hovering above the planet, on the screen of the Ancient machine.

Mouse came close and peered over his shoulder.

"Chris, cut the crap!" she yelled. "You look _obscene_! You are embarrassing me in front of all these people."

There was a satisfied chuckle. Then the man's voice imitated the noise of an incoming train. The shape, which was dangling from the Gate, straightened itself, turning into a mercury needle the diameter of the Gate entrance, and started to come in. It was coming, and coming, and coming, its distant pole already piercing the neighboring solar systems. It looked like the 'needle' was endless, but it finally came through, absorbing the temporary Gate into its stern.

There was a huge sigh, and the 'mercury' expanded in all directions beyond the screen. Radek hastily zoomed out. The thing that had just come through the Gate was _enormous_ – a silvery cow-pie the size of the solar system.

"What is it?" Rodney couldn't take his eyes from the screen.

"That's Chris." Mouse shrugged.

"Is it his spaceship?"

"No. It's _him_. Chris is a Metamorph. He can be anything he likes."

"But he is _colossal._"

"And you really thought that this Wraith was a _coward_? As a rule, Wraith don't bother themselves with _irrational_ fears," the woman chuckled. "Besides, Chris is rather _small_. The really big ones are larger than this Galaxy. They look like," Mouse spread her arms and arched her back, smiling, "frigates under full sail."

-o0o-

"I wouldn't do _that_, if I were you," said Mouse to Teyla without looking at her. "He'll squash you like a bug. Not even on purpose. He is so _full_ now, he might just _delete_ your mind without noticing it."

"Do _you_ know what he is thinking now?" asked Teyla, looking down the stairs at the Wraith. He was pacing back and forth in front of the Gate, using some complicated trajectory to avoid the boxes.

Mouse shrugged. "Without the bracelet – just a general idea."

"What is he feeling?"

"He is confused. He doesn't know how to proceed with… whatever he is planning. And he is not sure of the outcome. I'll just go and ask."

-o0o-

Mouse went down the stairs, and up the ramp, and sat on the box, carefully positioning her butt on the top of a huge dictionary. The Wraith stopped pacing and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Then he came closer. His move was almost hesitant, and it was clear that this uncertainty irritated him. He stopped in front of the seated woman, looking at her. Then he bent down, carefully took her hand in his claw, and pulled her to her feet. Mouse gave him a small reassuring smile. The Wraith was still holding her hand, looking her right in the eyes. Then he very slowly put her hand upon his chest. Next, and even more slowly, he reached with his claw and positioned it upon her chest, covering it shoulder-to-shoulder with his long taloned fingers. Mouse looked down, then up at him again, her smile getting broader.

"What is it? _My heart to yours_?"

The Wraith growled in anger and jumped away, scratching woman's throat. He turned his back on her and folded his arms in front of his chest. Mouse winced, but her smile didn't fade.

"Are you just trying to say goodbye?"

The Wraith didn't respond.

"The way of your kind is not the only one."

The Wraith looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

"We can say farewell like Teyla's people do. I saw it – it's quite beautiful."

Mouse walked around him, then carefully took his arms – her forearms to his.

"I can't reach you." The woman was standing on her tiptoes. "You should touch me _here_ with your forehead," and she pointed at her hairline.

And when the creature bent its head obediently, and its vertical eye-pupils merged in one line in front of her eyes, Mouse added, almost in a whisper, "Or we can do it like my people do…"

Her hands slid under his elbows and around his torso, bringing her body close to his. "Wrap your arms around me," she whispered, and put the side of her head to his chest. The Wraith hesitated for a second and obeyed, and the woman felt his chin on the top of her head.

"This is very pleasant," he said quietly and thoughtfully. "I can feel _all_ of your life-force."

"Where did all of _your_ life-force go, I wonder?" said Mouse. "All _I_ can feel are your _ribs_."

"We have special organs along the backbone. Was that a joke?"

The woman looked up at his calm and serious face, her eyes smiling.

"Yes, it was a joke." Mouse pulled herself free from his embrace. "Go. And come back. I will be waiting for you."

-o0o-

"Could you _please_ go with them?" Mouse was looking up.

The Wraith transport moved like a parrot playing on a ring: his pointed prow went down, missing the woman's head by a mere foot, and around, through the Stargate surface. Now he was hanging upside-down, half on the one side of the Gate and half on the other.

"Chris, the Dagger is coming with you!"

"Good!" The smile in man's voice was genuine, perhaps for the first time since his arrival.

The transport went beyond the surface, which dissolved immediately after it passed through.

_Look after him_, whispered the woman, staring through the empty ring of the Gate.

-o0o-

"I wonder if they can _regenerate_ after this type of feeding," Dr. McKay said thoughtfully, observing the empty screen of the Ancient machine.

Mouse looked at him in horror. "You are telling me now? When they are gone?"

Then she threw her head back and screamed, "Chris! CHRIS!"

The Gate activated. "WHAT?"

"You didn't check to see if they can regenerate!"

"Of course, they can. Why not?"

"I don't know. Just shoot them both."

"Can I poke them with a needle or something?" the man asked peevishly.

"No! We don't know…"

There was a burst of an automatic weapon, followed by silence.

"He shot himself," Chris said sarcastically from beyond the Gate surface. "Happy?"

"Pony Tail?" The woman's voice was a terrified whisper. "Are you all right?"

"Why you so sure it was _him_?"

"Oh, Chris, is he all right?"

"_Of course_ he is all right! Regenerated in less then 0.1 seconds. Wasted about four life-force equivalents."

"Pony Tail? How are you?"

"It was _not_ completely painless," said Pony Tail the Wraith, his voice serious and calm.

-o0o-

"You have been calling everyone here fascists for not offering you a drink. Here you go."

It was a tall, clear glass, full of water.

"Not _everyone_. Just that military one, whatever his rank is…" Mouse began, and stopped herself, staring at the Dr. Beckett.

He suppressed a smile.

"If you are trying to make me take my words back, you will not succeed." The woman was eyeing him with suspicion.

"I am just offering you a glass of water. Unconditionally."

"Not even a paper cup," she smirked. "I am truly honored."

Mouse took the glass and sniffed at the water.

"And nothing else but sedative in it. Oh, well. It might do me good." She gulped the water down. Then she looked at the empty glass, and let it slip through her fingers.

The glass fell to the floor and shattered into tiny pieces.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III

'Our _feeding_ is important to _us_'

Mouse opened her eyes. She was lying on a gurney in the middle of a room cramped with medical equipment. The needle of a medicine dripper was inserted in a vein on the back of her left hand, the clear liquid coming down steadily, drop by drop. She tried to sit up, and realized that her wrists and feet were pinned to the bed with restraints of leather and metal.

"I see you are awake." Doctor Beckett was watching her with his calm blue eyes.

She tried to pull free from the restraints. "What is the meaning of this?"

"You were restless." The doctor shrugged. "I had to reinsert the needle quite few times before I decided to take some precautions."

"What about now?"

"Let's just say I feel more comfortable when my patients take it nice and slow."

"You have a _sick_ mind, Doctor." Mouse grinned, laying back. "So you have been experimenting on intelligent beings for quite a while."

"You're not the most interesting subject." The doctor shrugged. "All of your vitals are regular. You are quite healthy for your age, but nothing special."

"I doubt you can detect a dormant metamorph with your machines." The woman gave Beckett a nasty smile.

"You mean that _net_ all over your body? I can _see_ it."

"You can _see_?" The scorn in the woman's voice was totally replaced with admiration.

"Not as expertly as Don Juan Matus, but yes, I can."

"That's so very cool!"

"Don't get all exited again, lassie."

"If you call me '_lassie_' one more time…"

"Lassie."

"'Lassie' is a name for a dog." The woman gave the doctor a menacing look and tried to free her wrists again.

"These restraints could keep a male Wraith down rather safely." It was a simple statement, but Mouse heard a smile in Beckett's voice. "And as I expected, you can not activate the metamorph just by wishing so. Perhaps it only responds to a direct threat to your safety."

The doctor took a disposable syringe, filled it with transparent liquid, and attached it to the dripper without pushing the plunger. Mouse eyed him with mistrust.

"So, let's talk," Carson wheeled a stool close to the woman's bed and sat on it.

Mouse snorted. "What makes you think that I'm willing?"

"Many reasons. First, you like me."

The woman snorted again.  
"Second, you are a naturally curious creature. Third, you don't want to spend the rest of your stay here in an induced coma." The doctor looked at the filled syringe, then back at his patient.

Mouse moved. In a split second she pulled her body down and tried to reach the leather bracelet with her teeth. She growled in rage, realizing that it was quite impossible, then looked up at the doctor with a wry smile. "I was always curious why all those patients on TV don't do _that_. And here is the reason – it's impossible." Suddenly, she grabbed the dripper line with her teeth and bit it in two.

The doctor reacted rather calmly – he got up from his stool, grabbed Mouse by the hair on the top of her, and made her lay down. Next, he buckled the last of restraints – the leather and metal collar – around the woman's neck.

"I didn't think it would come to that," Carson noted evenly. "But one who _behaves_ like a Wraith shall be _treated_ like one." The doctor stopped the dripper and replaced the broken line. "Your reactions remind me very much of Sheppard," he continued, seating himself on the stool once again. "Next time he gets himself into trouble, I will restrain him to the bed until he is well. The military lad you dislike," Beckett explained, seeing the woman's blank expression. "His name is John. And I think you are very similar to him."

"No way!" Mouse looked as if she were about to growl again.

"I am not saying that you are _identical_. He is much less selfish then you are. He is a people person, and you are a loner. But both of you are childish, stubborn, and can be persuaded to rest only with a large dose of sedative."

Mouse sighed and looked aside.

"Now tell me, where did you meet the friend of yours, one who calls himself Chris?"  
"_I_ call him that. He reminds me of a sea-captain I use to know."

"Enough of the Wraith-talk. One more time you'll try to shirk, lassie, and I shoot you with something that'll make you nauseous for _hours_."

Mouse swallowed. "What makes you think that I will not lie to you?"

"I will _see_ that. So, where did you meet him?"

The woman pondered the question for a while. The concrete 'where' instead of 'how' gave her no more leeway than those restraints.

"Annapolis," she said eventually. "On the Navy campus. On the promenade along the Severn River. He was standing by that low border along the Severn, and quite expertly spitting in the water. Like Planchet." Carson smiled. "It was an early spring, but he was so… brown. I thought he was a Marine, perhaps just back from Afghanistan. I am usually shy, but he was so… so… so I asked him if he really came from Afghanistan. He turned his head to me and said: 'Africa. And you shouldn't be able to see me _at all_.'"

"Does he always look like we saw him?"

"No. In Annapolis he did. But no. He looks depend on what his mood is. Sometimes he even looks like an elf. Elrond or something. But he is no good at that one. Elrond saying 'mother-fucker' out loud looks profoundly strange. I wouldn't be surprised if now he will play Wraith-characters too. One day he'll scare the shit out of some loser…"

"Well, that's enough for today." The doctor got to his feet, walked to the dripper, and pushed the syringe plunger, releasing the sedative into the flow.

"Hey, you!" The woman tried to rise her head, but the collar didn't let her. "So, you are the Nazi number one here. Ah? To Hell with the Wraith – you are in _human_ blood up to your ears…" she said, her eyes losing their focus, closing. "Chris'll _fuck_ you for this."

"Enough of the Wraith-talk," stated the doctor, looking down at her. "Besides, your friend does not strike me as a homosexual type." Then he added – mostly to himself, seeing that woman's breathing became slow and steady, the sign of a healthy sleep, "And if he cares about you a tiny bit – he'll _thank_ me for this."

-o0o-

"Aren't the showers the gift of the Gods?" Mouse, both sandals on her feet, brushed her half-wet hair with her fingers. "Much better than the stupid ionics!"

"You'd better look at this," said Dr. Zelenka, staring at her as if he knew she had just lost a close relative.

The thing on the screen was no larger then a Puddle Jumper.

"Chris?" whispered the woman. "What happened?"

"Nothing," the man's voice sighed.

"But… Your mass is way below critical."

"Tell me something _I don't know_." It was obvious that his sarcasm would be buried in the same grave with him. "We will not be able to accommodate any guests – that's all."

"Chris."

"How many Hives are out there?"

"Sixty," responded Mouse, frowning. "At least, the locals believe so."

"Hah. Hah. Hah," said the Metamorph sarcastically. "More than three hundred! How about that? I am _scattered_ in more than three hundred places."

"Oh, Chris."

"Oh, what? It was your bloody idea. Those _cowards._ I had to tear myself apart and _catch_ the every bloody Hive before I could feed them! You can't even imagine how slippery those bastards are! Every time I caught a ship, I had to cocoon it, otherwise those roaches would run away on the small transports. Besides, the bloody things are telepathic. When trapped, they immediately start to whine all over the Galaxy 'Oh, horror, the doom has came!' It's kind of difficult to corner others after this!

"I tried to pour the energy along the Hive surface – a _moron_ would understand that it's edible! I incorporated in it every human signature I'd scanned so far. Did they try to eat? Oh, no! They just ran to the middle of the ship and grabbed onto each other like a bunch of scared rats! I had to beam the boys down, and they had to – individually – pull the bastards from the pile and held them to the ship surface, until those idiots realized that no one was trying to harm them. Oh, heavens! Well, no one has died from a heart attack, thanks to the boys.

"Besides, every Hive was _packed_ with humans in various stages of abuse. I had to extract them, sort them out, patch them as well as I could, and send them home. That was a job above and beyond anything I've ever done before."

"Where are they?"

"I sent them all home."

"I mean the boys."

"They're finishing the job. I think all the leeches should get together and talk the situation through. I obviously overfed them, so I don't want them to get any wrong ideas – like increasing the population and that sort of thing. I semi-released the Hives, but I'm still holding on them, just to keep them in check. I sent the boys as my ambassadors – to give their folk a message."

"Are you going to build a feeding machine?"

"Maybe. Not now. I'm too tired."

"Are they coming back?"

"'They' or '_him_'?"

"Him. Pony Tail. Did he say if he…"

"Who knows? He had a Dagger – that Wraith transport you sent with us. They seem to have become big buddies. They had left."

"I want to see him."

"All right. I will not be able to help you with the books, though. Can you manage on your own?"

"My books are my life," Mouse sighed.

-o0o-

The spaceship looked like a black shark, half covered with mercury fungus.

"This is the last Hive in this sector," said Chris. "Let's screen it for him…"

"Beam me down." Mouse shrugged. "He's bound to be there."

The next thing she knew, she was laying prone on the cold metal floor. The woman picked herself up and looked around.

"Hey, somebody?"

A male Wraith was standing by the wall like a shadow.

"You are not Pony Tail." It was half a question.

The Wraith tilted his head to one side.

"Perfect," Mouse snorted. "Please, take me to your leader."

-o0o-

"He is just a mercenary," the male Wraith sneered looking down at the woman. "He has no _family_. He is _weak_."

"Leave us," ordered the white-haired Queen, and continued softly, after her attaché had left, "He lost his Queen, his ship, and the best part of his family in an explosion when he was very young."

"Mrrr…" A cat appeared on the floor next to Mouse – red, fat and striped.

The woman crouched, offering the animal her shoulder, than straightened with visible effort.

The cat pulled back his lips, showing the ring he carried in his mouth. "If you just hold that." Mouse took the ring from the cat's mouth and cleaned it on her top. "They're not thoughts, just images."

The spaceship looked like a dead whale in the middle of the forest, its head smashed and scattered over the great distance.

"Ever since, he has kept his family as a separate unit. Quite insane. He doesn't have a chance without a Queen."

"Do you know him?"

"No. Not really. I never paid any attention to him before. But we do not keep secrets from one another."

"Then where is this place?" Mouse indicated the dead whale in the middle of the forest.

The Queen frowned. "I don't know. I should, but I don't. _He never told anyone_," she added in astonishment. "And why do you call him _that_?"

"Pony Tail? He told me it's his name."

"He _told_ you?"

"Not exactly. I asked him how should I call him, and he…" Mouse looked lost. "He showed me this."

The Queen looked at the woman's thought – a tiny lock of colorless hair, tied with a blue string.

"It is just an expression," she said eventually. "It means 'it is not of any importance'."

"He never corrected me."

"The speak-names are not important."

"They are. For me, anyway."

The Queen shrugged. "They are of no use to _us_." She lowered her head, thinking. "All of _us_ who did not go back to sleep are going to the Gathering. The one you are looking for might go there, too." The female Wraith moved closer, staring the cat right in the eyes. "And what is this animal?"

"It's Chris. He is the one who just fed you."

"I know _that_. But what kind of animal he is impersonating? I wish I could have one of those here."

"No, you don't," responded Chris the Cat. "Cats have special food requirements. They eat _mice_." Chris turned his round whiskered face to see the expression on Mouse's face. "And the mice eat crumbs. And do you know who the best manufacturer of crumbs is? Yes, humans. And the entire… ecosystem _poops_. You will be in poop up to your _ears_ in no time."

With these words, the cat jumped to the floor and walked away, his tail high in the air.

"Poop, poop, poop, poop…" he muttered to himself.

-o0o-

Chris unloaded the backpack, the plastic boxes, and the boxes of books. "Don't bother me for a while. I put myself together, but I am as empty as a whiskey bottle in the hands of an alcoholic," he said. "He's bound to be around. Look for him."

The hall was so big, Mouse couldn't see the ceiling in the shadows. The Gate was a sesame seed lost in the corner of the cathedral. The hall was _full_ of Wraith. The crowd was in constant slow motion, silent, like mist creeping along the marsh.

_There are hundreds, thousands of them here, thought Mouse standing on the Gate ramp. They all look the same. How am I going to find him? _

And then she saw his _name_.

-o0o-

It was lying on the Wraith's shoulder – a tiny lock of colorless hair, tied with a blue string. And another, and another… every tress of the Wraith's mane had a little pony-tail at its end.

"Is it you?" asked Mouse, walking around him. "Is it really you?"

The Wraith moved his hairless eyebrow, his yellow eyes smiling. Then he picked up one of the pony-tails and turned it around couple of times. 'Am I brilliant or what?' was written all over his face.

"You are indeed brilliant," smiled Mouse. "Where have you been?"

The Wraith shrugged. _I had business to attend to_.

"Impressive." The white-haired Queen walked around Pony Tail, her hand sliding along his shoulder, then around his back, brushing his hair. "Where were my eyes before. You may join my family if you wish to. Like an equal."

Mouse gave him a smile – shy, and slightly frightened, but happy for him: _You see, not everything is that bad_.

"It is." The Queen was looking at the woman across the male's shoulder. "For he already _chose_ his Queen." There was no threat in her voice, just disappointment. "Well, my offer stays open. If you ever change your mind, you are welcome." With that, she drifted away.

"Wha… what did she mean?" stumbled Mouse, terrified.

The Wraith didn't respond, staring at her with his calm eyes.

"But, Pony Tail… I am… I am a different species. I am physiologically different… I can't _lay eggs_."

She was aware of the total silence that fell upon the hall. Not a move, not a rustle. She looked out of the corner of her eye: every Wraith in the hall was staring at her. It looked like a shiny wall made out of yellow glass.

"I didn't mean any offence…" Mouse felt her face blushing. "The structure of your society… I just assumed…"

She heard a snort and raised her eyes. Pony Tail the Wraith was obviously trying to suppress laughter. He failed, and started to laugh out loud, not at all unlike a human. "Ah, you silly little thing!"

In a second he was next to the woman, his arms around her, and he nosed the back of her head.

Mouse couldn't believe that there could be so much pain all at once. It felt as if back of her head had exploded; she couldn't scream, she couldn't even draw a breath… The loose net of the metamorph around her body reacted on its own – the next moment, the Wraith was flying through the air, falling to the floor, lying still, half-stunned. He tried to crawl, then brought his body into a crouching position, and sat there, still, his back to the woman.

"Pity, he has already chosen his Queen," repeated the white-haired female Wraith.

"And his Queen chooses to kick his _ass_!" Mouse growled.

The Wraith female sighed. "It is not as uncommon as you might think…"

-o0o-

"Chris! Get down here at once! It bit me!" Mouse checked the back of her head, then held her hands in front of her face, blood dripping to the floor from her fingers.

"_What_ bit you?" the man's voice was as huge as a dragon's, and as hugely annoyed.

"Pony Tail! _It bit me_!"

"Sort out your love-affairs yourself!"

"Get down here at once!"

The man sighed. "I am feeding. You are standing in a hall full of… _individuals_ who can explain to you – _on fingers_! – that our feeding is important to us."

"But…"

"No 'buts'. First, you get emotionally involved with a _monster_. 'Ah, sweet, adorable Pony Tail,'" said Chris in a high-pitched, nasty voice. "'Ah, Pony Tail is _hungry_. Ah, Pony Tail is _hurt_. Ah, Pony Tail is _lost_. Ah, Pony Tail is all of the above!' And when it did what it is supposed to do…"

Mouse couldn't believe that emotion could be so _powerful_. The fury she felt was as unstoppable as one of those thousand-year-old hurricanes on the liquid planets. She thought that she was about to scream, then realized that she _was_ screaming, howling like an outraged beast. Then the idea of tearing somebody the size of the solar system limb from limb occurred to her, and struck her as incredibly funny. Her mood switched so fast it left her almost breathless. She didn't laugh out loud, just chuckled, "Gosh, I behave like a Baskerville Hound." And then the calm came, replacing all the other emotions.

"My point exactly," she said, shaking her head and grimacing in pain. "They are _not supposed_ to bite. I don't even know what those pointed teeth are for. Some rudiment of something. If it had just tried to feed on me," and then her rage has came back. "But no! The bloody thing bit the bloody back of my bloody head! And now it's, well, ALL BLOODY!"

"Are you sure it wasn't a _love nibble_? OK, OK…You _do_ sound _wacky_," Chris admitted after short consideration. "But I can't come now. Really. I will be back for you in a few hours. You'll be just fine."

Mouse shrugged and sat on one of the book boxes.

-o0o-

"What did you do that for?" asked the woman in a small, upset voice.

"Look at me," Pony Tail was standing in front of her. "What do you see?"

"The orange cobwebs," responded Mouse. "For an hour or so. My head hurts."

"Soon you will not need _these_ to recognize me…" and he started to pull away the blue strings from his hair, destroying the little pony-tails.

"I kind of liked them." She reached with her hand, palm up.

The Wraith hesitated, then poured into her hand what he had in his claw. They were not pieces of rope, but smallish rings, made out of a soft, flexible blue plastic. Mouse sighed, and put them in her own hair, one by one.

-o0o-

"What's with the hair?" asked Chris, walking around Mouse as if she was a Christmas tree.

"Hair?" and the woman showed him her hands - palms with the slits in the middle, perforated fingers, long talons. "And heck only knows what my face looks like…"

"I'd say you look _cuter_ this way," noted the man. He grabbed her chin and lifted her lip with his thumb, like an inquisitive dog-breeder. "I bet those teeth are made out of chitin." He pulled a small screwdriver out of his breast pocket.

"No samples!" Mouse jumped away. "Just fix it already!"

Chris suppressed a smile. He came close to the woman, and made a move as if to hug her with one arm, but his arm passed through her like a hologram. An expression of amused admiration stole through his face.

"This is quite _brilliant_," he said to the back of Pony Tail, who was crouching at the foot of the Gate ramp. "My compliments!"

The Wraith didn't respond. Chris turned back to Mouse.

"I cannot fix it. It is _not_ a Wraith-type genome. The Wraith genome has clusters of Ancient DNA, as well as clusters of the Iratus bug DNA. Easy to distinguish, easy to tamper with. Even a _human_ can do that. But yours is a perfect scramble!

"You can fix _anything_." The woman's voice was a scared whisper.

"Of course, I can pull it all apart, but neither of the parts will be alive at the end. I should admit – your _spouse to be_ has quite a lot of juice _upstairs_. Don't know about the _downstairs_. Never thought that being a Wraith was a sexually-transmitted disease…"

"And about that _spouse_." The woman's voice was dangerously calm. "Mommy is _hungry_. Nail him to the wall."

-o0o-

"You don't need to do that." Pony Tail was standing with his back against the wall. "You are my _Queen_. I will obey your order. If you decide to take my life, I will not resist."

"Are you _sure_ you want to do that? The boy didn't mean any harm... You can feed on me, if you're hungry," Chris was making a face.

"Nail him," Mouse snorted.

"Sorry, buddy." Chris looked at the condemned Wraith with something approaching compassion. Then he took something that looked like a long dagger out of thin air, put it to the Wraith's shoulder, and pushed it through. Pony Tail didn't wince, only looked aside, narrowing his eyes.  
Pony Tail the Wraith was soon pinned to the wall, his widespread arms pierced with daggers, his overcoat unfastened, nothing but calm in his yellow eyes.

The skin on the Wraith's chest was practically inexistent – dozens, hundreds of touches were covering it – the blackened old ones, the new ones still bleeding.

"He is the best hunter in his family. He supports the others," Chris said quietly, observing the expression on Mouse's face.

"No one asked him to make an _addition_ to his family," she said, and stabbed her claw into the Wraith's chest.

-o0o-

"Am I contagious?" asked Mouse, cleaning her claw on her butt.

Chris sighed and walked _through_ her. He stood for a while with his head down, listening to himself. Then he turned and walked through her again.

"Oh, yes," he said eventually. "I would advise against any _fluid exchange_ with the humans. At least, until further notice."

"Then I know _just_ the party I'm about to crash." Mouse looked at him with a nasty smile.

Chris grimaced and looked aside. "Don't do that again. You can scare a pack of hyenas with that smile."

"It wouldn't scare _you_."

"No. But it hurts my _esthetic feelings_."

-o0o-

"I cannot offer you any protection," said Chris, his face very serious. "Do you still want to go?"

"Yes. It would be pity to lose such an opportunity."

"Then take this." It was a small silvery ring, lying on his open palm.

Mouse picked it up with her talon, looking at the man questioningly.

"It will take you there, and it will bring you back. It will also scramble the address after you go."

-o0o-

Chris looked at the pathetic, lifeless shape on the wall and shook his head. He didn't bother to pull the daggers out; they just dissolved, letting the Wraith's body slide to the floor.

* * *

1) Don Juan Matus – the character of the Carlos Castaneda's books. A shaman who could see the energy. For all we know – he could have a real prototype.

2) Planchet – In _The Three Musketeers_, the valet of d'Artagnan. He was hired by Porthos, who had found this Picard fellow on the Bridge Tournelle, spitting into the water. Porthos believed that this 'occupation was proof of a reflective and contemplative organization'.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter IV

'One who _behaves_ like a Wraith, shall be _treated_ like one.'

"It's me, Mouse!" She walked through the Gate, back first, hiding her face in both hands. "Don't shoot."

"What happened?" Lieutenant Ford asked.

Mouse turned around and looked at him through her fingers. The man noticed her claws and kept staring at her, his jaw dropping.

"You promised," she said and took her hands away, knowing perfectly well that he hadn't promised anything.

"Er… Major Sheppard?" Ford was using his headset radio. "We need you in the Gate room."

-o0o-

"That…" Sheppard suppressed a smile, apparently torn between 'that looks good on you' and 'that didn't change you a bit'. "...suits you well. Did you lose your sandals again?"  
"Don't need 'em no more. It's easier to drum the floor without them." Mouse moved her toes, and her long toe-talons produced a bony clicking sound, not unlike drumming at all.

Sheppard shook his head. "Where's your _boyfriend_?"

"Which one? The bald or the hairy?" Mouse was examining her finger-talons intently.

"Hairy, of course."

"I ate 'im." The Wraith female smiled without looking at Sheppard.

"_What_?"

"Devoured 'im, consumed 'im, gulped 'im down. He was rather _delicious_ too." Mouse made a small chewing motion and grimaced: "I guess _this_ is quite meaningless now."

"Why? I thought you liked him!" The major shook his head.

The female Wraith looked at the man out of the corner of her golden eye. "I did… He didn't amuse me anymore."

"Why did you come here?"

"Actually," Mouse was looking at Sheppard directly now, "I came to apologize. Remember, we were talking? And you told me that being a Wraith is a sexually transmitted disease? And I told you something stupid?"

"I don't rem…"

Next moment the Wraith was flying through the air. It hit Sheppard in the chest, and they were rolling down the ramp, the major swearing and shouting, unable to reach for his handgun, unable to free himself from the beast. Mouse turned his body around like it weighed nothing, and sunk her pointed teeth into the back of the man's head.

He screamed. "Get it off me!"

Ford ran down the ramp first. He aimed his handgun at the Wraith's body and shot the creature few times, being careful not to hit the major.

Mouse growled and locked her jaws even tighter.

Then Sergeant Bates, with great precision, put the barrel of his P90 to the Wraith's temple and pulled the trigger.

-o0o-

When Mouse opened her eyes, the world looked bizarre. It was red. And the people in it were hanging upside down, Major Sheppard among them. Then she realized that she was looking at reflections in a large puddle of blood, she was lying in.

"Here you are…" she said. "Remember, we were talking…"

"I never told you that being a Wraith is a _sexually transmitted_ disease." Sheppard grimaced, probing the back of his head again.

"I know. In any case, that's not the way it's transmitted." Mouse chuckled, and looked at the ripples on the surface of the bloody puddle, visibly perplexed. "It should have coagulated already." She exhaled, a short snort, and watched the light reflections dancing on the rippling surface. Then she continued, "We were talking about what you would choose to do – to die, or to take human life as sustenance. You told me that you would rather shoot yourself…"

Sheppard was eyeing the prone Wraith female silently.

"Now is the time for you to do it, if you are not the filthy hypocrite I think you are. For if you wait any longer, you will have to drill a hole here first," Mouse dragged her hand along the floor, causing a tsunami in the puddle, and tapped her forehead with the index talon, "with a rather _large_ drill…" She giggled, looking at her palm. "Do we have a chiromancer here? I wish to know what he would make of this!" She showed major her palm – slit in the middle, perforated fingers, and long, bloody talons.

"I can tell you what _I am_ making of this," Sergeant Bates answered instead. "You will spend the rest of your life looking at the empty walls of your cell through the bars of your cage."

"Right," Mouse snorted. "I mean, right next to your superior officer, whatever his name is…"

"What do you mean?" Sheppard stepped closer.

"What do I look like?" Mouse responded quietly.

"Like garbage."

"Yah. What do you think your friends will do to _you_, when you look like the _same_ kind of garbage?"

"You…"

"No, you. You are going to be a _Wraith_. No more chocolate bars, boy."

"I hate chocolate!"

"Good for you. You will not miss it then. Though you probably will when you're dying of starvation."

"I will not." Sheppard checked the back of his head – it wasn't bleeding anymore. "In any case – there is a machine…"

"Is there, indeed?" Mouse examined the surface of the blood puddle, found McKay's reflection, and poked it with her talon. "Didn't you open it? Oh, I know, you did. What did you find?"

Rodney shrugged.

"Exactly," Mouse continued. "Because the feeding _machine_ doesn't exist. Chris _could_ build it, perhaps, but he _didn't. He didn't have the time. _It was the box with some sort of accumulator in it. Everything else _was_ the metamorph, before Chris collected all the loose parts and went to feed himself. So the machine's passed on. 'This parrot is no more. It has ceased to be.' Delete, delete, delete," she muttered, killing the Rodney's reflection with her talon.

-o0o-

"What is going on? Why has no one informed me about this?" The red reflection of a slim woman appeared in front of Mouse's eyes.

"Everything is under control!" Sheppard almost growled.

"You call this _mess_ 'under control'? It is _puddle of blood_ on the floor, if you didn't notice! And you are all bloody yourself! And I would appreciate it if you would stop _yelling_ at me."

"I didn't…" The major drew a couple of deep breaths. "I'm sorry…"

"Hah. Hah. Hah," Mouse said in a nasty, small voice.

"Dr. Beckett, we require your _immediate_ assistance in the Gate room," Dr. Weir called on her headset radio.

"It's a _Wraith_!" Sheppard growled again. "It doesn't _need_ medical assistance."

"It is _you_ I am more concerned about at the moment," said Elizabeth sternly, and crouched in front of the prone Wraith. "Is it… Is it _you_?"

"Me? Oh, no…" Mouse replied. "But is it _you_? The one who authorizes all the _fascism_ in here? Oh, I'm _honored_."

"Let me just shoot this piece of crap," said Sheppard, pointing his handgun.  
"Major, control yourself!" Dr. Weir ordered, not looking at him. "What happened to you?"  
"Nothing." Mouse tried to shrug. "What goes around comes around."

"Meaning?" Elizabeth asked.

"Oh, go away… And never come back… I hate you…"

"Why?"

"I dislike people who take important positions without being qualified for them. _No one_ is as brilliant as a professional American. The person who could channel _all_ of her brain into the job… I take my hat off for such sacrifice. But nothing is as _pathetic_ as American who is just _pretending_ to be a professional. Because _nothing else_ is there. What else? Your spouse? Oh, yes, you _care_ about him. But I can bet my life, or what's left of it, that you don't _know_ the first thing about him… You have been eating somebody else's bread, _lassie_…"

"Why do you think I am not qualified?"

"Was it you who authorized medical experiments upon those you call prisoners of war?"

"Yes, but…"

"Why?"

"Because we are…"

"I'll tell you why… The _only_ reason you agreed to that is because you lost the argument with the military boy! You – _professional negotiator_ – had bought the simplest fallacy! What is the term for the sophism 'Don't believe him, he's a fascist'? Ah? The Liberal Arts, first year, first semester, rhetoric?"

There was a moment's silence.

"Anyone? Than _fuck_ you all. All of you are pathetic little…"

"Poisoning the well."

"…buggers," finished Mouse. "I mean, _bugger it_! Somebody actually got some _education_!" She observed the bloody puddle. "Come out, come out wherever you are…" she sang, poking the rippling surface with her claw.

"You could have moved your ass," responded the same voice.

"Oh, yah. I can move my _ass_. But I'm missing the half of my _head_ here. Or at least it feels like it. I don't want the _rest_ of my brain to fall out…"  
The reflection of a tall man wearing glasses appeared in the puddle.

"'Poisoning the well' is a common name for one of the logical fallacies – when person A discredits person's B argument by saying something objectionable about person B, and not about the argument itself. Like being a _fascist_ means the same as being a _liar_. Simple fallacy, as you said. There are two reasons why people fall for it. Reason one is incompetence, and reason two... sometimes even a very competent person falls for it. _Pretends_ to fall for it. If a person is rotten all way through, and just looking for an _excuse_ to do a bad thing..."

"What are _you_ doing among these creeps?" asked Mouse.

The man shrugged. "I've worked for dozens of employers – they're all crap."

"Next time you should try the North-East. Take it from me – the people there are truly amazing…"

-o0o-

"I didn't know you graduated the Liberal Arts…" said Dr. McKay, half mocking, half envious.

"I didn't," responded Dr. Kavanagh. "It's common knowledge." He sighed. "I bet she didn't graduate the Arts either. Rhetoric is a _two_-semester course. "

-o0o-

"Let me look," Beckett walked through the blood, grabbed the Wraith's hair, without any difficulty brought her body into the sitting position and observed her temple. "I don't see any damage."

She looked nauseated for a second, then stared at his hands, her jaw dropping. "Are you _nuts_?" Mouse growled. "Where are your gloves? And get out of the _bloody_ puddle! Who knows how potent it is!"

"What is?"

"Do you like my new makeover?" Mouse gave him a broad, creepy smile. "Exactly… Damned MDs… Before you touch the patient with an unknown medical history, you must automatically assume it has HIV! Are there _any_ professionals here? Gosh…" She was crouching now, very Wraith-like. "This place is standing on _sheer dumb luck_. I wander what Egil might have said on the subject…"

It was a strange language, all rustles and whispers – the words of the Wraith, the words of the shadow.

"Yah, that's the one," Mouse chuckled.

"What was it?" Dr. Weir looked at Dr. Kavanagh in surprise.

He didn't say anything, just frowned, and lowered his head.

"One of the Egil's vísas," the female Wraith responded instead. "It runs, "He who can't zip his trousers up without a trouble, shouldn't tamper with magical runes…"

Dr. Kavanagh shrugged. "They didn't know _zippers_ back then, but basically it's correct. "

-o0o-

"She beat you," Ford shook his head. "She's _the nastiest_ being I ever saw!"

Instead of looking at him contemptuously, as the lieutenant have expected, Kavanagh said, "Oh, yah," with a small meditative smile.

-o0o-

The Major was standing over the Gate console, as if contemplating which address to dial. "John, step away from it." Dr. Weir ordered, looking at Sheppard's back.

The man froze then turned around. He didn't even look angry, just confused, like a deer blinded by car headlights.

"Where are you going?" Teyla took a couple of steps towards Sheppard.

He didn't respond, just moved away, as if not recognizing the member of his own team.

"Please, calm down," Teyla continued, "no one here is going to harm you."

"Sergeant Bates," Dr. Weir said quietly, "I think the major needs a medical checkup. Make sure he gets to infirmary safely."

Sheppard stepped back. The military team advanced.

"Please," Teyla tried again.

The major glanced around frantically. He looked like a trapped animal. Then he jumped – an unbelievable twenty-foot leap – across the ramp, to the other side of the Gate room.

Mouse started to run. She was so fast that the blood she splashed turned into mist, slowly descending to the floor, soaking into Beckett's white lab coat. She caught the major before he hit the floor and threw him against the wall. Then she grabbed his head with both claws, lifted it and smashed it against the floor with incredible force. There was a loud cracking noise.

Mouse got to her feet and cleaned her hands demonstratively.

"It takes a Wraith to catch a Wraith," she sighed, and stepped back to the wall, seeing the firearms pointed in her direction. "He'll be just _fine_ in couple of minutes. You will _not_, though, if you leave him free."

Bates looked from the female Wraith to the prone body on the floor, then pulled out a pair of handcuffs and stepped forward.

"Argh!" Mouse rolled her eyes, bent forward across Sheppard's body, and snatched the cuffs from the sergeant's hand. She looked at Bates's P90 with disdain. "Oh, don't be daft. I wouldn't _touch_ you to save my life." Then she took the handcuffs with two fingers of each hand, pulled them apart with a quiet 'ping' noise, and dropped the parts to the floor. "The _head of security_ is trying to secure a _male Wraith_ with _plastic_ handcuffs. This place is _doomed_ to destruction. By the way," she continued, pointing at the blood puddle at the foot of the Gate ramp, "I suggest, boys and girls, that you clean this mess up at once. For if Chris comes back and finds it like this – he'll go ballistic. Literally. The Gods will not be able to recover the _dust_ of this place, let alone _everything_ and _everybody_ else."

-o0o-

Sheppard awoke with a start. He thrashed about and howled for a while, trying to free himself, then stopped and looked around. What he saw made him jump in horror – he would have been airborne if the restraints weren't holding him down. Mouse hid her pointed teeth, and giggled with satisfaction. Her butt was positioned on the stool, but her elbows were resting on Sheppard's gurney close to his shoulder, her chin supported on both palms.

She looked up at the silent Beckett: "I agree that playing Nazi is quite _amusing_. Is _this_ subject interesting enough for you?"

The doctor shrugged, a look of concern on his face.

"What have you done to me?" Apparently, the sound of his own voice frightened Sheppard; he howled and started to jerk again.

Carson saw blood coming from under the cuffs and grabbed a syringe and a transparent vial. Mouse wasn't grinning anymore. She sighed and put both of her claws on the major's face. He struggled for a while, then calmed down. The female Wraith moved her hands softly, slowly stroking the sides of the prisoner's face, his unruly, spiky hair, then she pulled away... The man on the bed was quiet, his eyes closed, then he moved his head ever so slightly, trying to reach Mouse's claw.

"It's amazing," whispered Carson, the syringe still in his hand. "He must _hate_ you, but he…"

"He does," Mouse whispered back. "His brain does. But for the Wraith _fear_ is not a function of the _brain_. It's a function of the _body_. His body finds it comforting to be in contact with another Wraith."

-o0o-

"It's just water." Beckett was holding a small plastic cup.

Sheppard had pulled as far away from the doctor as he could, his face turning green.

"Release me," he rasped. "I'm going to get sick… Please…"

"Do as he says," Mouse stated.

"But…"

"All the food and crap he has _inside_ has to come _out_," the female Wraith explained. "If you leave him like this, it will be messy and very embarrassing. So, let's have a deal – I do not humiliate your enemies, and you do not humiliate mine. Do we have a bathroom in here? And make sure he cleans himself afterwards."

-o0o-

"Did you experience…" Carson began.

"No." Mouse gave him a wry smile. "Thanks to you and your people _I didn't have anything inside for weeks_. And the male's organism seems to react more drastically to the virus then females. I didn't jump and such."

"You just ate your boyfriend."

"Shut up!" the female Wraith growled and looked aside. "What do _you_ know? Anyway, I'm going to have a nap." With these words she took the other gurney and rolled it beyond the benches of equipment, somewhere into another corner of the lab.

-o0o-

The man in a new uniform was lying on the gurney, his eyes closed, his wrists, ankles, and neck secured to the bed with leather and metal restraints.

"He was asleep on the bathroom floor," Beckett said to Mouse, the female Wraith stretching and yawning like a cat. The doctor continued, "I thought about some hospital clothes, but he is so jumpy. The uniform is much more durable…"

Mouse came closer and bent over the sleeping prisoner, examining the grooves which were clearly visible on the sides of his nose.

"Fascinating, aren't they?" said Dr. Beckett.

"Some rudiment or something." Mouse shrugged.

"Of course not! Wait…" The doctor walked beyond the mountains of equipment and come back with a cotton swab that he held safely away with the pair of long forceps. "Sniff at it!"

Mouse sniffed, and squeaked, and jumped away like scared kitten, her eyes watering. "Are you _nuts_?" she cried. "It's ammonia! I didn't faint yet, but I will!"  
"Don't breathe through your nose, silly! Try it again."

Mouse approached cautiously, looking at the swab, concentrating… There was no smell at all – the fresh, clean air…

-o0o-

"Your boyfriend's back." Ford looked at Mouse, than at his superior officer on the gurney, then at Mouse again.

"Chris? Cool! I was starting to miss the Big Boy."

"Not _him_." The lieutenant made a face. "The other one…"

-o0o-

The Wraith's dart was hovering above the Stargate once again. The Wraith was standing at the foot of the Gate ramp, tiny pony-tails still in his hair, here and there.  
"And I naively believed I had gotten rid of _that_ problem," Mouse said, looking down at him from the top of the stairs.

"Your friend pulled me back." The male Wraith cocked his head to one side. "He stayed to repair the space-ship for my family."

"He is very sentimental sometimes, isn't he?" Mouse sneered.

"He is… so you like him?"

"_Of course_, I like him! Why did you come, anyway?"

"The Dagger decided to go back. I came along."

"Just like that?"

The male Wraith was watching her silently – a very long, calm stare.

"You are my Queen," he said eventually.

"Oh, I wish you wouldn't be like this!" Mouse grimaced and turned away.

Then she faced him again, and walked down the stairs. He looked exactly like he had before – long leather-like overcoat, silky colorless hair, peaceful golden eyes. Mouse thought of all those lives he devoured to stay alive, and _what_ all those people saw before they died.

Mouse took a step forward, then another one. She didn't hug him, just came very close and put her head to his chest, listening for the slow and steady beat of his heart. The Wraith's body was as cold as the air in the room.

"Do you have to be that cold?" Mouse asked. "I _hate_ cold."

"No."

She felt his chest gets warmer and warmer, his entire body radiating heat like a furnace.

"Cozy." Mouse brought her body closer to his. "When I lived back on… long ago… I had a car. It's a sort of transport. Subaru SUS, all black, leather seats, seat warmers." The female Wraith sighed happily. "You smell exactly like the inside of a new car…"

The male Wraith chuckled. "It is probably the coat. We do not waste the energy in any form. Not the heat, not any chemicals. We do not smell at all. And we can fool infrared scanners."

"Can I?"

"No. Not yet. The drug worked much more mildly on you than on the others..."

"So you were going around _biting_ people? With your _mouth_?"

Both Wraith looked at each other and made disgusted faces.

"Of course not! You are the first... and the last human I touched with my mouth."

"Was it that _yucky_?"

"It was... wrong... I think it is the reason we use our hands to feed. I think we bit people to feed a long time ago. Not any more. But I injected quite a few with the drug. Part of my family were humans once."

-o0o-

"They shot me," Mouse said in a voice of little girl. "In the head. My head hurts."

"What did you do?" The Wraith's voice was very calm, as always.

"What did _I_ do?"

"They would not have shot you otherwise."

"Right." She was quiet for a while. "I bit the one who was torturing you."

There was a long silence.

"It was a very _cruel_ thing to do," he said eventually.

"What did you expect from the _Wraith_?" Mouse shrugged.

"The… drug changes only _physiology_, not _personality_."

"So you are trying to say that taking all your life-force and leaving you for dead is part of my true nature?"

There was another minute of silence. Mouse looked up – the male Wraith was observing her with a little smile.

"Bastard," Mouse nudged him slightly in the ribs, then put her ear back to his chest.  
"Actually, I am from very good family."

"I didn't mean it _literally_."

"I know," he sighed. "My mother was killed when I still could sustain myself with the solid foods."

"Who did it? I mean the explosion?"

"People. I don't know why – we never touched anyone on our rest-planet. My ship was destroyed, a large part of my family was dead… I was the first in succession line among those who survived. I took off, and didn't stop my hunt until every human on that planet was extinct. That was my first culling."

"Now?"

"Eighteenth."

"So you are _old_."

"I am _older_ than average."

"What is the average?"

"For those who look like me, it is six cullings. For people with no faces – a couple of years. Most of them are consumed after the season is over."

"I saw those. They don't look… smart."

"True. They can grow to full size in a few days. They operate on instinct, not on actual brains. When the explosion happened, I had an obligation to consume them. But I couldn't bring myself to kill any more of my family. So, when I came back from my first hunt, I fed every survivor. People with no faces do have faces in my family. They are almost the same age as I am. All of them are much stronger then me. Many of them are wiser…"

"So… are you going to join that… Queen?"

"Yes. Not like a consort – like an ally. She agreed to be a Mother for my future Queen. I was a son of Queen, I will be the father of a Queen. Never a consort. No luck…"

"That's for the best. You chose the _wrong_ Queen. I am just a regular human. All the jumps and tricks were from Chris."

"I can _see_ what is yours and what is not."

"I can't… I mean, I still see you as a small silvery waterfall. Can I just call you Pony Tail?"

"Of course. I told you that speak-names are not important."

"They are. For me…"

"Yes, my Queen." Mouse felt his chin on the top of her head. "You are a very responsible person. That is why you try to avoid every commitment you can."

"Do you realize what is the size of commitment you are asking me for? I can't be responsible for the _thousands_ of lives."

"So you like… Chris better than me."

"I like Chris in a very different way. I amuse him, and he takes me places. But the moment we stop being entertaining to each other, we will part. No obligations. Yes, we do have all the fun we can get. But it is not…"

"Laying eggs?"

Mouse looked up at him. There was a smile floating in his golden eyes.

"Was that a joke?"

"Yes, it was a joke. I shall go now. I will be waiting for you."

The Wraith stepped away, then turned and walked to the Gate.

* * *

1) chiromancer - fortuneteller who predicts your future by the lines on your palms.

2) Egil Skallagrímsson – one of the most famous poets-skalds, who lived in Iceland more then a millennium ago. His life is described in detail in Egil's saga – one of the most brilliant sagas ever written. Icelanders of those times were very much preoccupied with the subjects of man's fate, future foreseeing, and dumb luck. It is very likely that many of them could see.

3) vísa – Icelandic skaldic verse.

4) Both of them are just being naughty. The official English translation runs:

'Runes none should grave ever  
Who knows not to read them…'

which was very mild for Egil, taking into consideration his nasty temper...


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter V

'A warrior must assume responsibility for being here, in this  
marvelous world, in this marvelous time.'  
C.C.

'He's gonna die anyway… so we might as well make good use of him while he's still alive.'  
Major John Sheppard

"Didn't expect to find you here." Chris was standing at the Gate, looking at Mouse down the ramp.

She shrugged. "Why did you come, then?"

"To repair the possible damage you caused. Why didn't you go with him? He was the only creat… _man_ I ever saw, who was willing to spend the rest of his life with you."

"What about you?"

"Before I kind of hoped to outlive you. Now – no idea. You should have gone with him."

"He didn't ask me to join him for some luxury cruse. In case you don't know, he invited me to engage in a full scale _breeding_ experiment. I love my body. I am not about to destroy it with that kind of nonsense!"

"You don't even know how they breed."

"And I'm not about to find out!" Mouse turned and walked up the stairs, her claws in her pockets.

The man followed her. "Maybe it's something… well… _noninvasive_."

"Chris, one of us has a PhD in biology. And last time I checked, it wasn't you! How do you _picture_ a noninvasive way for mammals to breed?"

"Who told you they are _mammals_?"

"They are _not_? So you are trying to match make me with _non-mammal_?"

"You are not getting any younger, you know."

"Quit it, Jeeves. You are starting to sound like my mom. I like her, but eventually I had to move to another hemisphere to get away from that kind of talk."

-o0o-

Engaged in the conversation, they passed Dr. Weir without paying the slightest attention to her.

"Now, this is just plain rude." Elizabeth looked at two of them as they walked by.

Chris halted. "Go to the doctor's place. And don't you dare to _spit_ at anyone here while you are going!"

Mouse shrugged and walked away.

Chris stood for a while, his back to Elizabeth. Then he turned on the spot. Silky hair flew around him like waterfall. His dark, floor-length overcoat rustled quietly. His hair seemed to be even ashier, and his colorless eyebrows were even whiter against his bronze-tanned skin. He stepped toward the woman and offered her his hand in a familiar, Southern-gentlemen gesture. Dr. Weir hesitated, then took his hand. The strange creature in front of her raised its eyes – ice colored, they had vertical Wraith pupils. The woman gasped and tried to pull away, but it was hopeless – with the same success, she could have tried to free her hand from the grip of a vice.

"He was as false with you then as I am now," said Chris in Al's voice. "Don't ask for fake respect. A smirk is worth much more, if it is genuine."

He released her hand, then turned and walked away, changing back into rugged ex-military as he went.

-o0o-

Sheppard opened his eyes. The yellow eyes of a snake, with narrow, vertical pupils. Mouse noted how those eyes changed the very expression of his face.

"Now, doctor, watch where your parts are going." She smirked.

"What do you mean?" Carson was standing right next to her, looking at the creature on the gurney with an unreadable expression on his face.

Mouse turned to face him. "That's what I mean. The Wraith _prefer_ to make a connection through the chest, but one of them grabbing you like this…" she grabbed the doctor's wrist, "will kill you as surely as anything else. It will just be longer and much more painful."

Mouse was expecting the human to jump away, but he did not. He didn't even try to free his hand. He just stood there, staring at her with his light blue, very calm eyes. The Wraith female shifted nervously, then looked aside and released his wrist.

"That's better," Carson commented with a little smile.

-o0o-

"Only two incisors, no visible fangs, all hooked in – had they been catching fish with those teeth?" Chris was holding the Wraith's chin in one hand, lifting his lip with the thumb of the other. The creature on the gurney growled and tried to free its head. It was impossible.

"I seriously doubt it was _fish_ they were catching." Dr. Beckett was working on something on his bench, his back to the visitors.

"Is it chitin?"

"Modified. Not as easy to break."

"Fascinating creatures. Repulsive, but fascinating."

"Stop treating me like a lab rat!" the prisoner growled through clenched teeth, for the man's hand didn't let him move his jaw freely.

"First, I never treated any animal worse then I would treat a human. Second, I am not treating you like a rat, I am treating you like an equal. I know that you don't have the _strength_ to handle this situation, but I _pretend_ you do. So do yourself a favor and play along." Chris turned the prisoner's head to one side and frowned, looking at something. "Was he just making a _point_?"

"Who?" Mouse was sitting on a stool on the other side of the gurney.

"Your boyfriend. You just look at that!"

Mouse bent over the gurney, then put both of her hands on the prisoner's chest for support and bent even farther. She felt the Wraith's heart going two hundred beats a minute under her palms.

"Somebody's yellow," she commented in loud theatrical whisper.

The creature hissed and made another helpless attempt to free itself.

"Get off him. What are you trying to do – cause cardiac arrest?" Chris turned the prisoner's head to the other side. "This one too. Bloody thing has _pointed ears_!"

-o0o-

"Question is – were they _originally_ pointed, or did the drug do it?" Chris noted thoughtfully. "Show me yours!"

Mouse wanted to disobey, but decided against it, catching the look on the man's face. With that exact look, scientifically minded individuals cut their close friends open, just to see 'how those bits are connected inside.' She lifted her hair and showed him her ears: one then another.

"Well… yours are _somewhat_ pointed. But his are the real thing. Were they pointed before?" Chris looked at the prisoner.

The Wraith on the gurney didn't respond. He used the only speck of freedom he had left - he turned his head away from his interrogator.

"I never saw anyone who was willing to be _tortured_ on the subject of his ear shape," Chris commented. "Oh, well." He stepped closer to the gurney.

"Leave him." Beckett was making a face. "He probably never paid attention."

Mouse reached with her hand and rolled a strand of the Wraith's black hair between two fingers. Then she sniffed on her fingertips and grimaced. "One who puts all that crap in his hair never paid attention to his ears? Unlikely. What are you going to do to him?" She gave Chris a creepy smile then hid her teeth hastily.

"I can do whole lot of things," the man sighed. "But do I have to?"

The prisoner didn't respond.

"You are not a _real_ Wraith, you know." Chris continued. "They can endure much greater pain than humans. You can't. The one who made the drug couldn't get around it – human personality cannot be retained in a creature which is insensitive to pain."

"I am _so_ scared," the Wraith snorted without looking at the man.

Mouse put her hand on the prisoner's chest – his heart was pounding. She smiled.

"That makes you happy." The Wraith was looking at her calmly. His voice wasn't even bitter, just sad.

"Yes, it does." She sat back on her stool and let it spin around. "It makes me feel warm at my dysfunctional stomach."

"Do _you_ remember?" Chris was looking at the doctor.

"The shape of his ears was the _least_ of my concerns." Carson walked to the shelves and searched through a row of black plastic cases. "That one might do." He pulled out one of the cases, opened it, and flipped through the CDs. "He had a head injury couple of months ago. Let's see."

-o0o-

"John, please!" The doctor's voice was clearly upset.

"You worry too much. It's just a scratch!" Major Sheppard was sitting on the gurney, cross-legged, and laughing.

"It might get infected! Let me clean and stitch it!" The doctor's hand holding the cotton swab appeared on computer screen.

"No stitches!" Sheppard made a scared face and pulled away from the doctor. Then he winked at the camera.

"John, please! Or I will shoot you with something that cuts off the brain from the muscles!"

"I don't know about _muscles_…" the major glanced at the camera out of the corner of his eye, and moved his eyebrows up and down, "but this drug will spend an interesting time looking for my _brain_."

There was a girl's giggle, and the camera zoomed out, catching the upset face of Dr. Beckett.

"Not me, silly!" The doctor waved the swab at the camera. "Film the wound!"

It was a close-up, the black spiky hair, the ear. The pointed ear of an elf…

-o0o-

"Pity." Chris sighed. "I was kind of looking forward to shaking the daylights out of your boyfriend for such jokes."

"Roll it back." Mouse was looking at the screen with a preoccupied expression on her face.

Chris shrugged, not taking his hands out of his pockets. The image on the screen jumped back a couple of frames.

"What do you want to see?"

"Here!"

The childish, upset face, plump cheeks, black hair, dark blue eyes.

"Was that _you_?" Mouse was looking at Carson in disbelief.

The doctor turned around and walked away, without saying a word.

"Did you dye your hair?" Mouse asked his back, vanishing among the rows of equipment.

"Don't be silly."

-o0o-

"He _did_ lose some weight, that's for sure. When was it filmed?"

Chris looked at the case, then at the calendar in the corner of computer screen. "Seven months ago. Do you want me to check what happened?"

"No. Not really. Males do strangest things to impress their Queens. May be his new Queen likes asphalt colored hair?" Mouse shrugged.

"Dark ash is the term. Besides, with all that indoor filming…" Chris waved his hand dismissively, "colors never come out right."

-o0o-

"Why are you keeping me here?" The Wraith on the gurney rasped. "I didn't harm anyone!"

"Yet," Mouse said, looking down at him. "You didn't harm anyone because you can't, not because you wouldn't."

"That's bullshit! I don't have the slightest desire to touch anyone in this room."

"But, John…" Carson began.

"Don't call me _that_!" The Wraith on the gurney stopped himself, visibly shaken. "That didn't come out right, did it?" His voice was almost a whisper.

"You see?" the doctor continued. "Thing is, no one in this room is the primary food source for the Wraith. What would happen if you would encounter a regular human?" Beckett saw Mouse's expression and added: "It's a long story."

"Nothing." The Wraith's eyes were glowing.

Dr. Beckett shook his head sadly. "Let's check."

-o0o-

"Er… Major?" Ford gave the creature on the gurney a hesitant smile.

"Lieutenant."

Ford didn't like the purposefulness of the Wraith's stare, but his voice was a whisper, and sounded almost human.

"How're you doing?"

"Not too good." The prisoner shrugged. "Thanks for coming to see me."

"Don't mention it."

They both were whispering now. Ford came little closer. It all happened in a split second. The Wraith thrust his arm further through the leather cuff, taking all the skin off his wrist, turned it around, and tried to grab the lieutenant's hand. A mere inch saved Ford's life. He yelped and jumped away, holding the injured hand, the blood coming through his fingers.

The creature screamed in frustration and gave the gurney a powerful shake. Then the Wraith drew a deep breath, calming himself. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to."

-o0o-

Ford looked at the deep scratches on the back of his hand, horrified.

"Am I going to," he began, his voice trembling.

"No," the doctor responded. "He is not contagious anymore. Let me just disinfect it and put a bandage over it, and you can go. Thank you for coming."

Ford looked like a wounded puppy.

-o0o-

"Why? Why me?" The Wraith on the gurney was calm now. His wrist wasn't bleeding anymore; his dark blood crusted all over the cuff, soaked into the bed-sheet around his hand.

"An interesting question." Mouse shrugged. "I have a theory. I think that all lines of Reality that were bent to bring this place into existence are criss-crossing on you. So the immune response of the Universe falls upon you like twenty tons of explosives. _I am_ that response. Nothing personal."

"Bullshit." The Wraith bared his pointed teeth. Then he looked at the doctor. "Carson, I don't want to die like this. I almost _ate_ a member of my team! Do something!"

"But there's nothing I _can_ do. I could try to put you to sleep for a while, but I am not sure if sedatives would work on you."

"And you are _not_ going to try that, either," said Mouse. "This yellow-bellied bastard is going to live through this event without losing his _consciousness_. He is going to find out how it feels to be hungry, and to be unable to satisfy his hunger."

"I just don't want to be a _murderer_!"

The Wraith froze, looking at Mouse's face. They weren't in the infirmary anymore. As if through the eyes of a flying eagle, he could see the land far below. It was brown, rugged, sun-baked land. There was a small village, houses made of clay, tiny human figures running around randomly, in terror.

"Don't get me wrong. I don't blame you. I know you had your orders," Mouse said quietly. "I like Afghanis no more then you do. There were children in that village, but any one of them could shoot you in the back without the slightest remorse. Many of my people died in those mountains. But it was not the land of my people. It was not the land of your people either. That land belongs to those who live on it. So _please_, don't tell me you are not a _murderer_."

-o0o-

"Any progress?" Chris asked, more for the sake of conversation than in any real belief that the doctor would come up with some miraculous cure.

"No." Carson shook his head. "You?"

"No. This… condition was never _meant_ to be reversed. I talked to the guy who created the drug. I talked to his… werewolves. None of them want to be human again. He never changed anyone, _who wasn't a Wraith already_. That wacky bitch was the first mistake he ever made."

"I hear you!" Mouse growled from the other corner of the lab.

"I never had a chance to thank you for taking care of her," Chris continued, looking at the doctor. "I am very grateful."

"Do you know _what_ he did to me?" Mouse appeared at the man's elbow.

"I do. I wish had the willpower to do it myself sometimes. It would be better for everyone." Chris sighed and ruffled her hair, looking at her with a sad little smile.

-o0o-

"Carson, there _must_ be something. The drug you've been working on. I don't want to die like this," the Wraith said in a helpless whisper.

"I can't give it to you; you will die for sure."

"You don't even use my name anymore."

"You _yelled_ at me last time I did."

"I'm sorry."

"Hell with the name! I don't know what to do with the rest of you."

"I do," Mouse was looking down at the Wraith. "Put him in the cage. It's much more humane than keeping him like this."

"_I need him here_," Dr. Beckett said, irritated.

"Take your samples or whatever and put him in the cage. You can fetch him later, if you need him. It's not like he is going anywhere."

-o0o-

"The last one." Chris drew another syringe of the Wraith's blood.

The creature hissed and jerked in his bed.

The man put the syringe on a sterile tray, then turned back to the Wraith and hit him in the forehead. The Wraith closed his eyes.

"Be nice to Old Uncle Chris, boy. Old Uncle Chris is the only one here who is going to feed you."

"You will _not_," Mouse said quietly.

"Why?"

"Anyone who locks up others to starve should know how it feels."

"What about you? You are doing exactly the same thing. You're going to toss him in the cage until he's dead, right? Do _you_ know how it feels?"

"Well, graduate school was quite a purgatory."

"I'm not joking. You are going to take the boy's life for absolutely no reason. Why him? He is not even the worst person here."

"Who's worse, pray tell?"

"What about that _head of security_?"

"You didn't expect me to bite _him_?" Mouse shivered in disgust.

"I guess, not," Chris frowned. "What about the local boss? Everything that happened here was _authorized_."

"She is just weak and incompetent," Mouse waved her hand dismissively. "But this bastard is rotten all the way through."

"It doesn't matter! You are not trying to teach him a _lesson_! You just want him to die slowly and painfully."

"I just want him _dead_."

"Then take his life _now_, if you think he doesn't deserve to live. Or let me snap his neck – he will not feel a thing."

"No."

"But it doesn't make any sense! Let me remind you of your own words." Another Mouse stood on the other side of the gurney, her features distorted with rage. "'We'll kill five thousand New York girl-secretaries, and five thousand of our women will be able to work as secretaries.' I would _understand_ that!" she screamed. "'We'll kill five thousand New York girl-secretaries, and five thousand of our children would go to school.' I would _understand_ that! It would be disgusting, but _understandable_! But NO! It was absolutely _meaningless_ murder, that's what throws me off!"

Chris reappeared. "You remember the raccoon? Oh, I remember the raccoon!" He shook his head. "I had to take you from the planet to prevent you from killing not only everyone who was accused to be a member of the terrorist organization, but everyone on the planet who _looked like_ those terrorists!"

"Genetics is a powerful force," Mouse shrugged. "I still think that life would be safer without them."

"It was _wrong_. If you had gone on like that, you'd have depopulated the planet in no time."

"Right."

"Right! What about those who rape their own newborn children? Would you let _them_ be? What about those who capture and torture elephants, just for the tourists' fun? Would you let _them_ be? I killed couple of those myself. What about the others? I agree about the _genetics_. All people are crap! So let them all rot! You don't like the guy, so don't make babies with him!"

"Chris, it's final. He is going to die in the cage, and I am going to _watch_."

"That's _sick_."

"Whatever."

"Then I am going to build another cage for you, next to his. And I am going to lock you up until you're dead. That's final too."

"Deal. For how long I will live?"

"Charged like now? Years. Though I wouldn't call the last couple of months a _life_. Not as such."

"Him?"

"Six weeks. Eight, tops."

"Good. I want a warm floor in my cage."

"Fine. No books."

"What?" The Wraith female was taken aback. "That's not fair!"

"It is fair. I know you all too well. Your life is _inside_, not out. With the books you wouldn't give a shit where your body is."

"Those are _my_ books!"

"I'm not stealing them from you. I'm just not letting you have them in your cage."

"Then give them to that… guy with glasses, whatever his name is."

"Kavanagh," said the Wraith on the gurney.

"I wonder how he spells it." Mouse frowned. "Well, there goes my library number _four_."

-o0o-

"One, two – move!"

Four military men lifted the Wraith from the gurney and placed him on the cage floor. They hastily moved out, the door went down, the force-field flickered like bluish flame and disappeared.

It was happening day, after day, after day. They stunned him, they took him away, and brought him back unconscious.

The male Wraith lay for a while without moving, then curled on his side, his back to Mouse. The female Wraith thought he was sobbing quietly.

-o0o-

Mouse thought about the first time they had opened the cage door to take him.

He moved – fast as a Wraith, but not Wraith-like at all. He threw himself down, knocking two soldiers off their feet, and jumped into the corridor. A bullet caught him in mid-jump, his body hit the wall and slid to the floor, blood coming from underneath his head. Sergeant Bates came closer and pointed his handgun.

"You do that, and I tell on you," said Mouse. "I tell _Chris_ on you. He'll _splash_ you along the walls of this damned place."

Bates grimaced, irritated, and grabbed the stunner from the hands of one of the guards. He put the weapon to the Wraith's head. Mouse saw convulsions ran through the Wraith's body, again, and again, and again.

-o0o-

Anyway, it was nice to be able to talk without opening her mouth. "Hey, you."

"Go away."

"What are they doing to you?"

"Leave me alone."

"Whatever is it, it's _wrong_."

"Shut up."

"I will not. I need you to do something for me."

Silence.

"Or I will tell you the sky-stories until you cry again."

Silence. This time he didn't even say, "I didn't cry the first time."

"You asked for it. I will tell you what kind of sky we have in August. It's never like this in your country, I don't know why. It's amethyst blue, and all covered in clouds. Oh, those clouds. They're soft and fluffy on the top and flat gray on the bottom, lying on the air like whipped cream on transparent jello. One can go to the hills, and lie down, and watch clouds passing by. The hills smell of dry grass, and crickets are singing their songs."

"What do you want me to do?"

"That's better. I need to talk to somebody. I need to find out what that _doctor_ is up to. Those military guys will not listen to me."

"They will not listen to me either."

"The one you tried to eat will. Tell him to tell that guy, Kavanagh, to come here."

"Kavanagh is an ass."

"Of course. But he is a _smart_ ass. Will you do it?"

"I'll try."

-o0o-

"Aiden." The Wraith was crouching on the floor of his cage.

"What?" the lieutenant whispered.

"Can you do one thing for me?"

"If it's not…"

"It's not. Tell Kavanagh to come here."

"But, sir…"

"Don't call me _that_!"

"Do you _really_ think Kavanagh will come running?"

"Tell him _she_ wants to see him."

-o0o-

"What is it, lieutenant?" Bates was standing over the crouching Ford.

"It's John. He doesn't look so good."

"Do you want to see a _doctor_?" Bates asked with false concern.

The Wraith hissed and pulled away.

"You see, even Beckett's name has an _invigorating_ effect on him."

-o0o-

Mouse didn't realize how tall the man was until he stood in front of her cage. She barely reached his shoulders.

"He looks like he lost over thirty pounds," he said eventually.

"Are you hitting on him?" the male Wraith sneered.

"I am scientist, _Mister_ Sheppard. I am naturally observant." Kavanagh didn't turn to look at the Wraith.

There was the unmistakable sound of a force-field struck by the claw, followed by a cry of pain and anger.

A little, satisfied smile crossed the face of the scientist.

"Some people are naturally skinny," Kavanagh continued, making a small gesture with his head toward the other cage. The Wraith was circling in it like a captive beast. "I am not. I have to watch what I eat all the time. Beckett was that way, too. Then he changed. I saw him quarrelling with _McKay_ over _food_. McKay was screaming, and Beckett was giving his 'Oh, don't be silly, lad.' It was about chocolate. Five pounds of it, to be precise. And I am sure that McKay was in his rights. Then a couple packages of bacon were lost. That's thirty pounds of _raw_ bacon."

"My people eat the raw bacon all the time." Mouse shrugged. "I used to like it, myself."

"You didn't steal it from you colleagues, I suppose? Didn't munch it secretly somewhere under the lab bench?"

"No."

"Precisely. Besides, he is getting _taller_. He is not as tall as me yet, but he is almost as tall as him now." Kavanagh made another small gesture towards the other cage. "He had his uniform adjusted. _Twice_. His hair is getting lighter. His eyes are so pale now, he avoids the daylight when somebody is around.

"His personality has changed. Before, he was so very careful about his methods, his conclusions. Now he moves through the science like locomotive. I am not saying his science is _bad_, but he has lost the very ability to doubt himself. He was the coward number one here – but he isn't afraid of _anything_ anymore."

"And no one has noticed that?"

"Who? People here wouldn't notice anything until it is too late. He is all those little smiles and that silly accent. He wears baggy clothes. He avoids standing right next to the people who knew him well."

"He eats like a pig, but he lost weight."

"He _looks_ like he lost it. I accidentally ran into him in the corridor couple of days ago. It was like running into a _telephone pole_. I still have bruises."

"What did he do?"

"Nothing. Smiled, said it was his fault, helped me to my feet."

"What is he up to?"

"No idea. I hacked his computer, but he doesn't keep anything on the hard. Oh, no." Kavanagh shook his head in response on Mouse's urging stare. "I am _not_ going anywhere _near_ the infirmary."

"Yellow!" snorted the male Wraith in his cage.

"Unlike somebody," the scientist pointed with his head, "I am _not_ a brave man. Which is the normal state of affairs for an _intelligent_ individual."

-o0o-

"John?"

The male Wraith moved his head, then picked himself up from the floor and got to his feet. He looked at the slim woman standing next to the cage bars. There was indifference in his yellow eyes.

"How are you, John?"

"Fine. Could you please… step little farther… I don't want to…"

"Sure." The woman backed off and stood against the wall. "I received an anonymous complaint, that you are not being treated with humanity."

"I am fine."

"Right," Mouse snorted, and walked to the bars of her cage.

The male Wraith hissed.

"You shut up!" the female Wraith ordered without so much as looking at him. "What are you doing to him?"

"I think it is not your concern."

"Oh, yes it is. It's not you who have to watch how he crawls on the floor whining for painkillers."

"John?"

"I can handle it."

"Right," Mouse growled. "He can. Just don't mention the word 'sky' to him, or he'll cry again."

"I didn't!"

"_Sky_. In _August_. _Clouds_."

"_Damn it!_" He didn't cry. He just turned around and walked to the farthest corner of his cage, his back to both women.

"John, if it is that bad, I will tell Beckett to stop."

"No."

"To stop _what_?" Mouse was looking at Elizabeth intently. "Oh, what harm will be done if you'd tell me? I am not coming out of this cage till I'm dead!"

"It's a drug. Basically, it can cure every disease. It's based on stem-cell technology. John agreed to help."

"Of course, he _agreed_! Would his _disagreement_ stop you? And do you realize that it's almost impossible for creatures like him to say 'I'm scared' or 'I'm in pain'? Or 'I need help'? Do you realize that your 'head of security' wanted to put a bullet through his head since the _first day_ he saw him? Now he can. And he _does_ it without slightest remorse, when he thinks that no one is looking! Stem-cells! Do you know that your own government prefers to flush the fertilized egg-cells down the toilet instead of turning them into stem-cell lines? Just to avoid the ethic issue of using living human beings for medical research? Damn it! It's not a _fertilized egg_ we are talking about! It's your friend! The every… _protein_ you liked in his damned body is still expressed…" Mouse froze, horrified, and slowly took her head in both claws. "Oh, my God. What am I talking about? You need _one_ cell to make the cell-line. A couple, just to be on the safe side. You don't need _half_ of the bone-marrow of an adult male. Day, after day, after day… It's not that… It's a biological weapon he is working on! Now he is mass-producing it… Oh, God." she crouched, swaying side to side. "Oh, what have I done…" Then she jumped to her feet. "Chris! CHRIS! Do you hear me, you old bastard? Come down here at once!"

There was silence.

"I hear you." It was the quiet, sad voice of young boy. "They are all _nuts_. I'll tell _father_ on them."

-o0o-

The Gate activated. The Wraith dart left his favorite spot above the Gate, and slowly moved around the walls of the hall.

"The shield!" Dr. McKay whispered to the technician.

"It's not responding!" the technician whispered back, and pushed the button yet again, with no results.

The dart halted in front of the console deck and turned towards the Gate, showing people the bright geometry of his butt – all black, criss-crossed with zigzags of blue flame. Rodney went pale, realizing that the exhaust of the transport engines could easily burn out the entire hall.

Dagger made an obscene noise, melted the plastic shield in front of the console deck with his exhaust, and disappeared through to Gate before the remains of the shield hit the hall floor.

-o0o-

"John?"

"Yes, Rodney." The Wraith didn't move. He was lying face down on the floor of his cage.

"Do you need anything?"

"No."

The second visitor – a small man wearing glasses, with brownish bushy hair, crouched in front of the bars, trying to see the Wraith's face.

"Radek, please," said the Wraith without looking at him, "move little farther."

"Oh, Twix – the sweet couple." Mouse rolled into a tight ball on the floor, her back to the rest of the world, and closed her ears with both claws.

-o0o-

Those fools kept coming to see him. They still called him 'John', not realizing that it was perhaps the worst torture out of all he has been through.


	6. The Epilogue

The Epilogue

'I _wish_ you to _find out_.'

Two guards fell to the floor and lay there, motionless. The last one went to the console and pushed the controls, removing the force-field. He opened the cage door, then joined his comrades on the floor.

The male Wraith turned his head, then slowly picked himself up and walked to the cage door. The female Wraith could almost feel how his body shook from the weakness.

"It was not my intension to see you die," she said, observing the pathetic creature, which was trying to steady itself, leaning against the cage bars. "Not like this, anyway."

"Right." Nothing human was left in this voice, low and raspy.

The Wraith was looking at the human bodies on the floor.

"Eat," said the female. "I thought I would enjoy your misery and death – but I am _not_. Apparently one needs a soul of a special quality to _enjoy_ the sight of a dying being."

The male Wraith didn't say anything. He slowly walked towards the immobile humans and stood over them, as if unsure what to do next.

"Take this." The female pulled the ring from her finger and threw it through the bars. The ring easily passed through the force field of her cage, fell to the floor, and rolled toward the bodies. "It will take you to the gathering place, and scramble the address after you go. Somebody is usually hanging around there. Ask where Chris went. If you will not find him, ask for Pony Tail. Tell him it is my _wish_ that you would stay with his family for a while."

The male Wraith didn't respond.

"Let's face it," she continued. "Your fate is not with the human race anymore."

The Wraith bent down, but didn't pick up the ring. Instead he scooped up a P90, which was lying next to the immobile body of the one of the guards.

The female Wraith winced, seeing how much effort this simple move cost him.

"It's heavy and inconvenient," she said, still making a grimace. "Eat. Eat, and you will understand that you don't _need_ a weapon. How many people are there in the Gate room? Twenty the most. An adult male can fight twice as many empty-handed. And win."

"How do you know?" He didn't look at her. She could see only his non-human profile, half covered with overgrown spiky hair.

"Eat. And you will know it too."

"You are just _dying_ to see me give in." Apparently P90 felt unfamiliar to the Wraith's claws – he turned it around. And again, and again.

"No. I am dying _unconditionally_." The female smirked. "I am starving. I cannot hold them down _forever_ – eat and go."

The Wraith stopped playing with the weapon – its short barrel pressed to his chest.

"Quit the nonsense." The Wraith female grimaced. "Oh, well. I promise you, if Chris… _when_ Chris finds the cure, I will come looking for you. I will ask you then if you want to be a human again."

"He left you," the male Wraith noted flatly.

"He will be back," the female responded. "It is not the first time we have quarreled. Now, could you please eat? _Please_? It is a real pain to watch you."

The Wraith didn't respond, looking at the weapon in his claws.

"Don't be daft," said the female. "You die - you lose."

The Wraith snorted, as if suppressing the laughter. "I almost did…"

-o0o-

The Wraith, who had been John Sheppard once, was still standing, when the emptied P90 made a couple of clicks and went silent. Then he dropped the weapon and fell on his face.

Mouse waited. Then she waited a little longer. Then she sat down. Not the Wraith semi-crouch – she sat on her butt and hugged her raised knees. She kept looking at the lifeless shape on the floor, realizing, for the first time, that this pile of the bones, this empty shell, this _miracle_ that was no more, was perhaps as magnificent as any other living being in the Universe.

Then she lay on her back and closed her eyes, listening to the whirlpool of Infinity spinning around her, slow and majestic.


End file.
